The Ace Turnabout
by PengyChan
Summary: Los Angeles, 1992. Detective Gant and prosecutor von Karma investigate a murder case in which the key witness happens to be a rather attention-hungry child with a special talent for getting himself in trouble.
1. Luke Atmey, Key Witness

_A/N: I pretty much started typing this the moment I finished playing "The Stolen Turnabout". It was supposed to be just some random thing about Luke Atmey, but somehow I ended up adding von Karma and Gant in it and giving it an actual plot. I still have no idea how this happened. It's kind of an experiment, really, since I never tried to write a crime fic before, so I'll see how it goes._

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><p><strong>Los Angeles, March 1992.<strong>

Manfred von Karma frowned in annoyance as the wind rushed over him the very same moment he stepped out of his car, ruffling his hair and causing his cravat to whip his face. He smoothed it down with an impatient gesture of his hand – thankfully, none of the officers currently watching the area had seen what had happened – and quickly walked to the entrance of the hospital, not even bothering to try smoothing back his hair as well until he was inside.

He briefly nodded at the officers, who immediately recognized him and let him get inside without even asking for his ID; everyone who had any business in either the criminal department or the courtroom could easily tell who he was. You don't go sixteen years without losing one case nor getting one single penalty without earning some notoriety and, of course, respect. Not to mention the rather satisfying aura of invincibility that seemed to strike deathly fear in any attorney who had to cross paths with him, and in any defendant whose case he would prosecute – winning a guilty verdict before the attorneys could even begin to guess what had exactly happened.

And even those who never had and never would have to cross swords with him were clearly intimidated by his mere presence. But isn't it just normal for imperfect fools to bow their heads in front of perfec-

"You look cheerful as always, Manny. Haven't been swimming lately, eh?"

…of course, not _everyone_ was as intimidated by him as he would have liked. But after sixteen years he supposed he could say he had grown to at least tolerate that man's annoying attitude – an attitude that, he had learned to know that well, hid a cold and calculating mind almost as cunning as his own; something much more dangerous than most could imagine. "Detective Gant," he greeted him coldly, finally taking some time to smooth his hair back now that he was inside the hospital "this is hardly the right weather for that kind of activity."

Gant sighed. "Good point. But it was nice enough until Tuesday. And to think I wanted to take last weekend off. That guy at the museum sure picked the wrong moment to get himself killed, eh?"

"If anything it was a simple case we wrapped up quickly," von Karma cut him off, not really feeling like listening to his babblings on how he would have liked to spend the weekend "what about this one? Have you already searched the crime scene?"

"Sure. It's down in the hospital's basement, in the old boiler room. Bet you'll go to see it by yourself later, but the boys are not done yet. Mind if I tell you the basics in the meanwhile?"

"Do that and make yourself useful for a change."

Gant chuckled. "You really need a vacation, Fredo," he said lightly before turning back to the subject at hand "anyway, our victim was a surgeon called Stan Hewitt. He was killed during the night shift, probably no more than two hours ago, with a lethal dose of morphine, injected through a syringe we found stuck in his neck. No prints on it. If it was full as it looks like it was, he must have passed out immediately, and death must have come after mere minutes. There are no signs of struggle, which means he went down there on his own accord; maybe to meet the killer, since he didn't seem to really have a reason to be there and it's clear whoever killed him got very close to him without arising any suspect. It had to be someone he trusted, or didn't feel threatened by. And the murder had to be planned from the start – people don't walk around with syringes filled with morphine in their pocket just because."

"I see. Anything else?"

"The floor is very dusty, as you can imagine, and we have some nice prints in the dust. We took a few shots of them. Ordinary hospital shoes, the kind doctors and nurses wear."

Von Karma snorted. "Considering that the murder took place in the basement of a hospital, that's hardly a surprise."

Gant clicked his tongue, playing with his forelock. "Ah, but Freddie, what says it couldn't have been someone from the security, or the maintenance? The prints do. They wear different shoes."

"That's not enough," von Karma said, his left hand thoughtfully clenching a handful of his right sleeve "we have to make sure no doctor or nurse's shoes are missing. And even if none of them is out of place, some pathetic attorney could still claim the shoes could have been… borrowed."

"That's what I thought as well – one gets good at getting into an attorney's mind after being stuck with you for so long, you know – and already make sure of two things."

"What things?"

"First of all, no shoes are missing. And second, to get the spare ones the killer would have had to pass right next the security guard. The guard sitting there never left her position, and no one who wasn't a doctor or a nurse walked in. So no one but a doctor or a nurse could have those shoes."

"And you took her word just like that? She could be lying, and if she is and some attorney proves that the case might get difficult. I need solid proof, Gant!"

"Does the security tape suit your tastes?" Gant said with a smirk "of course I verified her claims right away. She truly never moved from the desk, and the tape shows no one but doctors and nurses getting in and out that room. Of course, if it's not good enough yet you could question the guard yourself. She's someone we had occasion to meet already after all – she sure didn't forget _you_…"

For a moment von Karma seemed almost about to lose his composure, his eyes widening. "Wendy Oldbag?" he asked, clearly fearing the answer. How could that woman be _everywhere_ he went?

"Bingo. She asked me about you, you know," Gant winked at him "I didn't tell her you would be on the case, but if you feel like having a chat with your number one fan…"

"_No_," von Karma cut him off with something close to a snarl before clearing his throat "it won't be necessary. The security tape will be enough. I think we can establish that the culprit is a doctor, or a nurse."

"Most likely a man," Gant added "the victim was rather tall, and the angle shows pretty well that whoever stuck the needle in his neck had to be almost as tall as he was, at least. Also, that's what the prints' size tells us. No one but the victim and his killer was there recently. Them and, of course, our key witness."

Von Karma – who had been absentmindedly stroking his chin in thought – sharply looked up at Gant, a scowl on his face. "A witness? You told me nothing about a witness," he hissed, his eyes narrowing. He had no patience for Gant's games, and he didn't appreciate having any kind of information held from him, no matter how briefly.

Far from being intimidated, Gant smirked. "I was just getting there, Freddie. There is a grade-school kid who claims he saw everything. Apparently, he got out of his room tonight and somehow managed to wind up in the basement."

"Hmm. And how do you know it's not just making it up? I find it rather hard to believe even a child of challenged intellect could be foolish enough to get lost inside a hospital to the point of getting in the basement, and even harder to believe no one noticed. The paediatric ward is rather far from the basement's entrance, as far as I can tell, and there are supposed to be doctors and nurses around during the night shift."

Gant shrugged. "I know it sounds odd, but that's exactly what happened. Not only there are traces of his presence in the boiling room, but he was actually found there along with the body: the search for the boy was probably the reason they found out about the murder so quickly."

Von Karma frowned. "Alone with the body, you say?"

Gant laughed. "C'mon, Manny, you can't be seriously thinking anything like that! The kid is just eight, small for his age to boot. He's far too short to be the one who stuck a syringe in a grown man's neck. Not to mention he has a broken arm and is wearing a cast; it would have been impossible for him to even land a blow on Dr. Hewitt, even if he tried with all his might."

"It is my duty as a prosecutor to sort out all possibilities. Especially since a suspect is yet to be arrested," von Karma said pointedly, his scowl telling just what he thought of that proof of incompetence from the police's part "of course, I'm going to talk to this child right away. What do you know so far?"

"A nurse on the night shift found his bed in the paediatric ward empty around one in the morning, and immediately started a search. Only twenty minutes later they found the child in the basement, squatted under an old boiler not even ten feet away from the body of Dr. Hewitt. Hell knows how he got there, but what matters is that the kid claims he saw the murder happening," Gant told him as they walked into the elevator to rise up to the floor where the paediatric ward was along with a couple of officers "and with some luck, he also got a glimpse of the murderer. We'll find out soon, won't we?"

Von Karma scowled. "Given that they let us interrogate him," he grumbled "I've encountered such problems already – people claiming we shouldn't be let interrogate children, no matter what they witnessed, because they had been _traumatized_…" he scoffed "the excuses they won't make to let criminals walk free!"

"I don't think that's going to be a problem this time around, Fredo. From what I was told, looks like the kid is more hyped up than traumatized. He sounded more than eager to talk, so the psychologist can stuff his babblings about traumas and need for rest back in his throat. We've got to talk to him. What's his name again…?" Gant frowned a little and turned to a nearby officer as the elevator's door opened "Atmore? Atkins?"

"Uh…" the man shuffled through some papers he had in his hands – drafts of what would eventually become the report on the case, of course – before replying. "It's Atmey, sir. Luke Atmey."

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><p><strong>Earlier that night.<strong>

Had anyone asked him why he was in that hospital, there was only one thing Luke Atmey would have replied – things got out of hand. Admittedly, that happened frustratingly often, but it was really _all_ that happened: he would try to do something cool that would make his classmates like him, and he would wind up in trouble. Not that it had ever stopped him from trying, considering that there wasn't really any other way he could think of to make them actually _like_ him.

Luke used to like being at the centre of attention – he still did, really – but it had turned out not all attention you get is bound to be good news: he sure didn't like it when they called him Pinocchio, and when they laughed at his attempts at doing as he was told in the gym class… well, getting their attention really didn't feel nice. He had been told countless time that if he just ignored them they would eventually grow tired of the game and stop. But ignoring them had never worked – he wondered why, since being ignored was the worst thing Luke could think happening to anyone – and trying to ignore everything they said it had gotten increasingly difficult.

So in the end he had thought that maybe, if he couldn't escape it, he could at least turn it into the kind of attention he'd _enjoy_ getting. He had thought that if he could make them admire him, then everything would be fine and he'd get the kind of attention he liked getting from them… and possibly from that nice teacher all boys in the school had a crush for, himself included.

That was the reason why, the moment the ball his classmates were playing with during the break – without him, because he didn't like sports and he was always picked last and he didn't like that either – had gotten stuck in the branches of a tree in the middle of the yard, he had known that was his chance to do something cool that would impress them. So, despite the teacher's orders not to try getting the ball back until she got back herself with a ladder – well, a stepladder – he had begun climbing the moment she had turned away.

He wasn't really strong, but he was also small, nimble and light enough to climb up the branches without them breaking, so he had made it close to the ball quickly enough. The moment he had finally reached for it he had allowed himself to laugh at the murmurs of what he supposed was disbelief, and admiration coming from the other kids beneath him.

But his laugh had been cut short by the creaking noise of a branch bending and then breaking, the thin branch he had put his foot onto to hoist himself further up, and a second later Luke had found himself plummeting to the ground so quickly that he could barely even realize what was happening. He had managed to twist in mid-air so that it would be his shoulder to take the impact rather than the head – it worked so well in movies, just _so_ well – but it had hurt so much more than he had expected, and he was sure he had heard something snapping just an instant before the pain in his arm hit him.

Luke didn't remember screaming, but he probably had, because he his throat was sore even later. He could only remember that all of a sudden the teacher was next to him, cradling him in her arms, and despite the pain he had chuckled – now that was something none of the others had managed to obtain! "He… heh. I got your attention, right? Right?" he had asked, but the teacher wasn't listening, busy as she was yelling for someone to call an ambulance.

But at least she hadn't yelled at _him_, as his mother had done later at the hospital. Then she had cried, and then yelled some more, and in the end he wasn't really sure whether she was yelling or crying, so he didn't quite know how to react – all he knew was that his arm hurt and the cast made him uncomfortable and he just wanted her to give him a hug and tell him it would be okay like the teacher had. He had also wanted to reply that of course he didn't want to make her cry – why would he? – but things… got out of hand. As always.

"Sometimes I think Luke will be the death of me," he had heard his mother saying tiredly at the phone right outside the room, while she thought he couldn't hear her. When she had gotten back inside she was a lot calmer, though, and she had stroked his hair and told him that he had to stay there for the night, that she would be back in the morning and to be a nice boy while she was away.

And so there he was now, trying to play solitary with a deck of cards his mother had bought him to keep him occupied since there were no other children in the room and she knew how he disliked being all by himself and having nothing to do. It wasn't that bad at first – it helped him keeping the dull pain in his arm out of his mind – but he eventually grew bored. He put the cards away with a sigh and glanced out of the window; it was night now, and he knew he was supposed to turn off the lamplight and sleep, but he still wasn't tired. Maybe he could ask for someone to bring him a book, but where were the doctors and nurses? Where was everyone?

Well, Luke told himself as he climbed off the bed, there was one way to find out, wasn't there? Sure, he knew he could call for the nurses from his bed, but it would be no fun. Wouldn't it be better if he took a look around? It would occupy some time, and it was totally what Sherlock Holmes would have done. He certainly would have wanted to check out the place instead of calling for a nurse after all, right? He wouldn't have stayed in bed if bored, because he was Sherlock Holmes and he was meant to look everywhere and investigate anything. And Luke wanted to be just like him when he grew up, so that meant he was going to look everywhere, too.

Maybe he'd also find his own Watson: what place is better than a hospital to look for a doctor who'll follow all your cases, praise you for brilliantly solving them and then write books about your accomplishments?

Still, only minutes were enough for him to regret his decision. Well, not to really regret it, just to… reconsider a few points. The hallways were longer than he had expected, and it was like walking into a maze, an empty maze with no one around. Really, where were the nurses and the doctors? Where were the _patients_?

"Sleeping, all of them. People in hospitals are sick, and sick people sleep a lot, and it's night now. So they're sleeping. Elementary," Luke replied to his own question, the sound of his voice in the empty hallway making him feel a little less lost. Not that he was really _lost_, it was just that… things got a little out of than. Again. But it was okay, he just had to find someone and ask for directions, and then-

His course of thoughts was interrupted as he spotted a small door on his right. He walked closer, adjusting his arm a little – they had put a cast on his arm that was now hanging from his neck, and it made him a bit uncomfortable – to read what the sign on the door said – _Personnel Only._

Luke knew that was only a polite way to tell people to keep out, and the thought he was standing in front of a door leading to a place forbidden to him made a small shiver of excitement run up his spine. After all, he reasoned, if they wanted to keep people out of there it could mean they had something to hide. And if they had something to hide, it was probably something bad. And if it was something bad, then what would Sherlock Holmes do?

He would investigate, of course. And if he found something incriminating in there he would deduce who the responsible was and get them arrested, and people would stare at him in amazement and envy and Dr. Watson would write a book about that, too. Luke had yet to find someone who'd write books about him, but what was no reason not to get started, was it? Luke smiled in excitement and tried the handle; for a moment the door wouldn't open and he thought it was locked, but then there was a slight creaking sound and it opened enough for him to slip inside. It looked like it was a little hard at the hinges – someone hadn't been oiling it properly, Luke noted before taking a look around.

The light was very, very dim, only a few emergency lights on the walls working, but once his eyes grew accustomed to the half light he could see that he was on top of a small staircase leading down to the basement, to what looked like a large boiling room. At first it looked like there was nothing interesting in there and he was about to get back outside – it was also dusty there and he didn't like getting dirty – but then a faint sound reached his ears, a sound that sounded much like… voices?

Luke frowned and tried his best to listen better. Yes, he could hear two voices – two men talking. What were they talking about? Why where they there to talk about… whatever they were talking about?

_What would Sherlock Holmes do?_

Oh well, _that_ wasn't even a question, was it? He would investigate, of course. And so would Luke.

The boy silently closed the door behind him and silently walked down the stairs, rather thankful of the fact the slippers he was wearing wouldn't make any noise on the floor. The voices were coming from behind a large, old boiler, and now that he was closer he could tell they sounded rather angry. No, he corrected himself, one of them sounded angry while the other one was still perfectly calm. Icy, even.

"This as come too far," one of them, the angry one, was hissing "it's getting out of control!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Stan," the other man's voice was still calm "everything is perfectly under control. You should learn to relax."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" the man called Stan sounded exasperated now "falsifying the documents to perform some extra surgery was one thing, but this? It's too much. The patient could have died!"

It took Luke a moment to realize he was standing frozen in place with his mouth hanging open. Once he managed to regain full control, he shut his mouth and tried his hardest to think quickly. That sounded serious, because when someone almost dies it _is_ serious stuff, so he should keep listening without being spotted if he wanted to find out more. After a few moments of thought, he crouched down and squatted under the boiler so that he could crawl a little closer without being seen. He could see the men's feet now; they were wearing those weird white shoes he had seen doctors wearing.

"But she didn't, did she?" the calm man was saying "she's old in any case. A little complication didn't surprise anyone."

"No, Al, you just don't get it!" Stan sounded terrified now "there might be an investigation on this, and if they check carefully they'll find out…!"

"No one will find out anything. We just need to stay calm-"

"I can't stay calm, goddammit!"

A long silence followed, and Luke held his breath. One of the pair of shoes in front of him shifted, then the calm voice spoke again. "No, I see you can't. Too bad. If you lost your cool and spilled the beans, you'd drag me down with you. I'm sorry, Stan, old boy."

Everything happened so quickly that Luke could barely realize it: one of the pair of shoes moved quickly as their owner leapt forward, and a second later there was a loud gasp as the owner of the second pair of shoes seemed to be pulled forward first and then pushed back before stumbling on the ground. The boy could only stare with eyes as big as saucers as the man called Stan fell on the ground and stayed still after convulsing a couple of times, something sticking from the base of his neck – a syringe. Luke opened his mouth to scream, but only a weak squeaking sound came out, so weak that the man still standing didn't hear it, and it wouldn't be until later that Luke would realize his inability to scream had saved his life.

_He's dead he's surely dead he must have poisoned oh mom don't let him see me please mommy I promise I'll be good and things won't get out of hand again and I won't make you cry ever again I promise I won't I promise…!_

His terrified thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud sigh that made his mind freeze, and for a moment he was sure the man – the murderer – had heard him, maybe spotted him. But then the shoes moved quickly, away from the body and away from his hiding spot. Then there was the sound of steps fading and then the faint noise of a door opening and shutting again, and only after the last echo of the door shutting had faded Luke dared to breathe again.

Of course, Sherlock Holmes wouldn't have been scared; Sherlock Holmes would have stopped the bad guy, or at least he would have now left his hiding spot once he was gone to investigate, check on the body and the murder weapon, to find clues and deduce and find out what had happened, who the murderer was.

But Luke Atmey was no Sherlock Holmes: he was an eight years old who had just witnessed a murder, and all he could do was staying squatted under the boiling room with his eyes screwed shut so that he didn't have to see the body just a few feet from him.

He hadn't moved at all when they found him.


	2. Investigation

_A/N: I can't really put my finger on the reason why, this chapter was kind of a pain to write for some reason. Oh well. Hope it's at least readable._

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><p>Finding the witness' room wasn't difficult at all, considering that there was an officer standing in front of it; another thing that made it easy to find was the fact that a child's voice could clearly be heard – why, Gant thought, wasn't that a loud kid – coming from inside, repeating over and over that he was just fine, not traumatized at all, and that he wanted to just speak to the police because he had seen everything and could help the investigation a great deal.<p>

"It looks like the officers were serious when they said the kid is more hyped up than anything else," Gant mused with a chuckle, only getting a slight grunt of response from von Karma, then he opened the door to see the youngest witness he had dealt with in quite a while sitting on the bed.

He was a rather small, blond haired kid who looked younger than his eight years, with a nose that most likely exposed him to quite some ridicule from other kids. He had a cast around his left arm – he had been admitted in the hospital after breaking his arm that morning, Gant had been told – and the moment he and von Karma walked in he immediately turned away from the psychologist talking to him to look at them.

"I take it you're our witness," Gant said jovially, causing the child to nod eagerly and the psychologist to frown.

"Sir, I must say I disagree-" he began, but von Karma scoffed, cutting him off.

"This boy witnessed a murder. I don't care for anything you have to say, for none of your babblings will change _that_," he said coldly "I will interrogate this witness, no matter what you have to say. If the thought aggravates you so much, feel free to remove your bothersome self from this room. Now."

The man stuttered something, taken aback, and turned to Gant as if looking for help. Gant just shrugged. "What he said," he simply said "besides, the witness doesn't seem to be traumatized."

"I'm not!" the boy – Luke Atmey, wasn't it? – piped in "I'm just fine! And I can help, I can really help! I saw everything! You can't stop me from testifying!" he added defiantly, glaring up at the psychologist.

Gant laughed and clapped his hands a couple of times before patting the man's shoulder. "You heard the kid. Now, if you feel like letting us work, that's the door. You can walk outside without any help from the officers, can't you?" he asked with a smile that seemed to unsettle the man more than the implied threat, and a few moments later Gant, von Karma and Luke were alone in the room.

"So," Gant finally said, sitting on a chair next to the bed while von Karma kept standing beside him "looks like you're the key witness here – Luke Atmey, right?"

"Yes," Luke said with a grin so wide that for a moment it looked like his face would split, as though he was having the time of his life "and you're a detective, aren't you?"

"Oh, aren't you a smart kid, Luksey," Gant said cheerfully "you guessed right, I'm a-"

"I didn't guess it," Luke pointed out solemnly, straightening himself as much as he could while sitting "I _deduced_ it."

Gant chuckled, ignoring von Karma's slight snort. "But of course you did. Nice deduction. Detective Damon Gant, at your service. And this stuck up guy with frills is Fred- prosecutor von Karma," he corrected himself quickly as von Karma glared daggers at him "well then, kid, we're all ears. Tell us what you witnessed."

"And do not overlook a single detail," von Karma added "I will accept nothing short of a perfect testimony. Is that clear?"

Luke immediately nodded. Gant had to admit that he looked quite confident. "Sure. A perfect testimony," he repeated "got it."

"We'll see about that," von Karma said "well then, what happened tonight?"

Luke frowned a little in concentration. "Well, I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get up and have a walk. I wanted to take a look around. And investigate a little. I want to be a detective when I grow up," he added cheerfully, turning to Gant again. He probably had decided he liked him better than von Karma. That was hardly a surprise: at least until Gant decided to stop making them feel comfortable, pretty much all witnesses would rather talk to him. Not that von Karma left them much of a choice on the matter, though: he surely wouldn't let them ignore him.

Gant laughed. "Well, you started out great, didn't you? Nice to meet a future colleague."

"Do not digress, please," von Karma chastised them "the courtroom will have no interest for this kind of idle chat. What time was it when you got out of this room?"

"It was half past midnight. I know that because I looked at the clock on the wall before going. The one over there. You can check, it's working and on time. Is it accurate enough?" he asked proudly.

"Rather accurate, yes," von Karma conceded "how long did it take you to get to the basement?"

Luke thought for a few moments. "I think… more than ten minutes, but less than thirty."

Gant nodded and looked up at von Karma. "Sometime between forty past midnight and one in the morning, then. It fits. The estimated time of death is around one in the morning, the same time the nurse realized the boy was missing. If he witnessed the murder, he must have been there before then."

"I agree. The testimony sounds pretty solid so far," von Karma nodded as well before pressing further "and what did you see there?"

"I didn't see anything at first. It was pretty dark. I was about to leave, but then I heard two voices."

"Just two?"

"Just two. Two men. They were arguing. They were saying-"

"Wait," von Karma stopped him, holding up a hand, and Luke immediately shut up, though he looked a little disappointed for being interrupted already "we'll get to that later. Tell me what you saw and did first. Did you see them arguing, or just heard them?"

"Heard them," Luke said, and he looked a little disappointed now "they were standing behind that big boiler…"

Gant reached in his pocket and pulled out a small map of the basement he got from a rather annoyed Wendy Oldbag. He unfolded it in on his knees to that Luke could take a good look at it. "There are many boilers down there. The crosses show where they are. Do you think you can tell us behind which one they were standing, Luksey?"

Luke's gaze brightened again. "Sure!" he exclaimed before pointing at one of the biggest ones, right in the middle of the basement "they were behind this one. I got on the other side form the door walking this way," he added, showing the route he had taken from the door with a finger "there is a small step here. You can check, I almost tripped on it for a moment. How am I doing?" he beamed.

Gant reached to ruffle his hair. "Wonderfully, my boy, wonderfully," he told him before glancing at von Karma "he got the right one, Manny. The victim was found right behind that boiler. No sign in the dust around to tell the body had been moved, so he died where he fell."

Von Karma smirked. "Perfect," he said, more to himself than to anyone else, then he pressed on. "So you walked up behind that boiler and heard them arguing. What were they arguing about?"

"One of them, the victim… said something about how things had gone too far."

Gant's eyes narrowed. "Something that went too far?" he repeated.

"Yes, that's what he said. He said something about falsifying documents to perform extra surgery. He said that someone had almost died and that people could find out what they did, and then… then…" he paused and swallowed, and for a moment he didn't look quite as self-satisfied as before.

"Then one of them got scared the victim might talk to anyone about the whole business and decided to silence his accomplice," Gant finished.

Luke gaped at him. "How did you _know_?"

Gant winked at him. "I deduced it, of course. I'm a detective. I can also tell you that the killer had been prepared to kill Dr. Hewitt for a while, because he had the murder weapon ready."

Luke blinked, then he nodded. "Oh, right, the syringe! He prepared it beforehand. So it's… premeditated murder!"

"Not bad, detective Atmey. Been doing your homework, haven't you?" Gant chuckled before turning to von Karma "and I can also tell that our good prosecutor here deduced something else. Didn't you, Freddie?"

"Obviously. It's clear that the victim was involved into something less than ethical – it wouldn't be the first time surgeons perform unnecessary surgery on unknowing patience for their own gain – and that he didn't act alone. If we find his accomplice, or accomplices, we find the murderer. And the one way to find them is carefully checking the documents for each surgery that was performed here recently, starting with the one that supposedly almost killed someone."

"Oh, wait, there's more!" Luke exclaimed, his grin once again impossibly wide, his chest swelling as both Gant and von Karma gave him their full attention again "they said that the patient that almost died was a woman, and that she was pretty old."

Gant laughed. "My, weren't we lucky to get a little detective as a witness," he said, ruffling Luke's hair again "heard that, Fredo? That makes our job a lot easier."

"I have to admit I'm suitably impressed," von Karma conceded.

"But wait, what if he had more than one accomplice?" Luke asked, glancing at von Karma curiously "how will you know which one is the murderer?"

"That's simple enough – the first thing we'll do will be checking for alibis; the murderer is more than likely not to have one. And of course, there is the fact morphine was used to kill the victim – morphine that had to come from the storage room, which is controlled daily. According to the records, nothing was missing by the end of the afternoon shift, which means the culprit acquired it today, during the night shift. Besides, to gain access to the storage room a card is needed, and that card will leave a record. We'll see who had access to the room today, and cross the data we get with the names of the accomplices we'll find. If the same person who had access to the murder weapon in the right time span is also an accomplice, chances are that they're the murderer. Which means any alibi they might have will collapse like a castle of cards upon careful examination during the trial," he finished, snapping his fingers for emphasis "they'll be found guilty before they can even realize what happened."

Luke stared at him with his mouth hanging open, his eyes widening as he realized that once the murderer would be caught there would be a trial, which meant… "Will I get to go on the witness stand?" he asked excitedly "will I? I saw everything and no one else was there, so I'm the only witness. Will I get to testify in the courtroom?" he asked again, apparently delighted by the thought.

"Of course you will," von Karma replied "but don't flatter yourself, your role will be far from important."

"Now, now, Manny," Gant chided him half-jokingly "no need to break the kid's toy."

"I'm not here to pet a foolish child's inflated sense of self-importance," von Karma remarked.

"Wait, what?" Luke protested "not important? But I'm the key wit-"

"Boy, I'm Manfred von Karma," von Karma cut him off with a wave of his hand, as though swatting away an annoying fly "once the suspect is arrested, I could manage to have them declared guilty in mere minutes without even having to recur to your testimony. You'll only be in the courtroom to make things quicker, and because it's a given that whatever pathetic attorney will defend the murderer will want you at the trial to cross-examine you in hopes to find holes in your testimony. That, however, had better not happen," he narrowed his eyes, causing Luke to swallow and squirm a little.

"I… I… uh…"

"Don't worry, Luksey, Manny is all bark and no bite most times," Gant reassured him before glancing at von Karma a little more sharply than before "no need to scare the kid. His testimony was flawless up to this moment. If he keeps this up, we have no reason to worry."

"Up to this moment, yes. But there is more I need to know," von Karma retorted before turning back to Luke, rubbing his chin in thought "so, how did you see the scene?"

"Uh?"

"Up to this point, you only said what you heard. But you kept insisted on the fact you _saw_ everything. What did you exactly see, and how, if the boiler was in the way?"

Luke's gaze brightened. "Oh, that! I got under the boiler. To stay hidden," he added "they were talking about something illegal and I wanted to listen, but they would have stopped talking if they spotted me-"

"If they spotted you, they wouldn't have simply stopped talking. Chances are that you wouldn't be here telling us about it," was von Karma's comment "I have to concede that hiding was the best course of action you could pick for this trial. Had you left to tell someone what you heard right away, you would have missed the moment the murder occurred."

"But I didn't miss it," Luke beamed "I saw everything!"

"From beneath the boiler? I doubt it. Unless detective Gant was very much misinformed, you were very close to the body, and thus to the point where the murder happen. Too close to see _that_ much while squatting on the ground," he stared straight into Luke's eyes, a gaze that warned him not to even try lying "you only saw their legs, didn't you?"

Luke gaped. "How…?"

"Simple logic, foolish boy. You could use some if you actually want to make even a mediocre detective someday," von Karma said scathingly "in any case, that means you didn't see the murderer's face. What did you see from your hiding spot? Did you see the body falling?"

"I… yes," Luke said "I saw their shoes – the kind doctors wear. They were standing facing each other, then they struggled, but just for a moment. I think the murderer pulled the victim close to stuff the syringe in his neck, then he pushed him back. I saw the guy falling-"

"Did he fall forward or backwards? Did he manage to move a few steps before collapsing?" von Karma asked sharply in what Gant easily recognized as a test. If the boy gave the wrong answer or hesitated too much, the possibility he was lying couldn't be ignored and they would have to… _prepare_ him to testify the way they'd need him to.

However, Luke didn't hesitate a moment. "He fell right away, on his back. He took no steps. Then he only convulsed once and stayed still. He had a syringe sticking out from the base of his neck, and-" he was cut off by the sound of a door slamming open and a woman's voice calling out his name.

"LUKE!"

"What?" Gant blinked in confusion as someone rushed past him – almost knocking him off his chair – and snatched the boy from the spot he was sitting, holding him close despite his protests. It was a woman with blonde hair and a slim frame, and from the way she was holding the boy while muttering something on how scared she had been it wasn't too hard to guess she had to be Luke's mother.

"Ms. Atmey, I suppose," von Karma said, having clearly drawn the same conclusion as Gant.

"Yes," she said somewhat tiredly, finally letting go of her son – who, Gant noticed, was having some trouble to catch his breath. "I'm so very sorry you had to waste your time like this. I always tried to tell him not to lie, but-"

"Lie?" von Karma repeated.

"But mom, I'm telling the truth!" Luke protested "I'm not lying!"

She sighed. "Please, Luke, no more," she told him before turning to Gant and von Karma "I'm sorry, but Luke likes getting attention, and it already happened that he… well… it was never about something as serious as this. He's just a child, he doesn't realize-"

"I'm not lying!" Luke shrieked, tugging at her gown, and Gant could see he was almost in tears of frustration "I'm telling the truth! Why don't you listen to me? You never listen! I saw it! I saw everything!"

She looked exasperated. "Luke, enough! Can't you see that you've already-" she began, but she trailed off as Gant noisily cleared his throat.

"Ms. Atmey, I'm under the impression you don't believe your son actually witnessed a murder," he said, finally getting up from his chair.

She nodded. "I'm sorry you had to waste your time, but I'm afraid he didn't see anything. It wouldn't be the first time he made up-"

"He was found in the basement. Near the body," von Karma spoke quietly, causing her to fall quiet for a few moments.

"He was?"

"Yes!" Luke exclaimed "you tell her, Mr. Prosecutor! Tell her I was there!"

"Yes, he was," von Karma said with a nod "he was found only a few feet from the victim's body."

Luke's mother seemed to suddenly grow pale before she could get a grip on herself again. "But… but he could have gotten there later… he surely didn't see… he wasn't there when…?" she stammered, looking at Gant almost hopefully. The thought her son had been only few feet away from a murderer seemed to scare her to death. Gant couldn't say he blamed her.

"He did. There are several parts of his testimony that are too accurate for him to have made them up: the dynamics, the exact location, the murder weapon, the shoes they were wearing, the discussion that led to the murder. Things he couldn't possibly have known if he weren't there when the murder happened."

She seemed taken aback, but she recovered rather quickly. "Maybe he observed… the crime scene, and drew some conclusions? He often tries to-"

"Ms. Atmey, I'm afraid this is not the case. I wouldn't have lasted long in my job if I couldn't tell a lie from the truth, and you son is not lying. He's currently the key witness to a murder case. Maybe you should sit down," Gant suggested as he saw her swaying a little, as though the revelation had physically hit her.

"Oh, God," she groaned, slumping on the bed.

"See? I told you I wasn't lying. I told you!" Luke exclaimed in triumph, apparently unaware of her current state of mind, only to give a surprised squeak as she reached to hold him close once more "ow! Mom, my arm!"

"Thanks God you're fine," she said, her eyes tightly shut "oh, Luke, how can you manage to get yourself in trouble all the time…?"

"It's not my fault, I was just looking around and-"

"_Please_, don't tell me it got out of hand."

"I… got lost?" Luke tried, before squirming again "mom, my arm!" he whined, and his mother finally released him, though she kept a hand on his shoulder. She turned to Gant.

"Detective, I…"

"It's Gant. Detective Damon Gant," he replied, holding out his hand to shake hers "and this is prosecutor Manfred von Karma," he added.

She reached to shake Gant's hand. "Laura," she managed to say, her voice remarkably firmer now. Von Karma barely bothered to nod at her before speaking.

"Ms. Atmey, I hope you understand we have a murderer to catch and get convicted for his crime. Your son's testimony may be vital," he said, getting an amused look from Gant and a perplexed one from Luke – hadn't he said he didn't _need_ Luke's testimony? "For justice to be served quickly, it's necessary we catch the culprit soon. We need to ask your son a few more questions."

Laura blinked. "You… haven't caught the murderer yet?" she asked almost fearfully, and Gant knew what she feared: the news Luke had witnessed the murder had spread quickly among the staff of the hospital – they had most likely been the ones to tell her about that before the police even could – and that could mean that the murderer had to know it, and if he got desperate enough he could try to silence the boy. Permanently.

"He'll be caught soon. It must be someone from the night shift, and none of the staff has been allowed to leave. He'll be in the police's custody by this morning – with Luksey's help, of course," he winked at the boy "ready to help us out, detective Atmey?"

Luke was positively beaming. "Sure! Ask me anything!"

Gant chuckled. "Good kid," he said appreciatively "maybe you'd like to get something hot to drink meanwhile? We'll be done in a few minutes in any case," he added, looking at his mother. Truth to be told, she really did look like someone who needs to sit down and have some hot tea.

"I suppose…" she said a little reluctantly before turning to Luke " do you want me to stay?"

He shook his head. "I'll be fine. I'm not scared," he announced, puffing out his chest, then he frowned a little as his mother sighed tiredly "…are you? Scared?" he asked a little hesitantly.

She reached to stroke his hair. "No, Luke, I'm not. I'm sure you're safe with them," she told him "prosecutor von Karma, I suppose… that once you catch the murderer Luke will have to testify at the trial, isn't that right?"

Von Karma nodded. "Obviously," he said "given that we catch him before morning – and mark my words, we _will_ – the trial should start in a couple of days at most. I'll personally ensure that it doesn't last more than one day. You son won't have to do anything more but testifying once."

"Just once? Aw, too bad," Luke commented, but his mother ignored him.

"I see. Thank you," she stood up and headed for the door "I'll be right outside, okay?" she added, more to reassure herself than to reassure her son.

"Okay."

There were a few moments of silence after the door closed. Finally, Luke sighed. "She never believes me," he muttered with a frown.

"I suppose there has to be a reason why she doesn't," von Karma pointed out "in any case, that's none of my concern as long as you don't lie to _me_. I trust you didn't so far," he added, his eyes narrowing.

"No! I didn't!" Luke protested "tell him, detective! You know I told the truth!"

"Sure you did, Luksey," Gant reassured him "so keep going. We're listening. What did you see after the victim collapsed?"

"The murderer stayed still for a moment. He heard him sighing. Then…" he paused.

"Then what?" von Karma asked impatiently.

Luke straightened himself. "I fought him off," he declared.

"You _what_?" the prosecutor asked sharply. Gant couldn't help but smirk a little – it looked like the kid's mother hadn't been totally wrong in thinking he could lie: that was by far the most blatant lie he had heard in a testimony in quite a while. The kid sure was desperate to impress.

"I did! I really did! I got out from under the boiler and forced him to fle-"

"ENOUGH!" Von Karma's sudden shout caused the boy to trail off with a yelp "I'll have none of your idiotic lies! No one with half a brain would believe even for a second that you did a such thing – don't you _dare_ lie to me, boy, or I'll have to conclude that you have something to hide, and then it won't be the witness stand you'll be standing onto at the trial!"

Luke scrambled back against the bedpost, his eyes wide as saucers, all his confidence apparently gone. "I… I'm sorry!" he squealed "I just… I…!"

Gant threw his head back and laughed, clapping his hands couple of times before speaking. "Cut the kid some slack, Freddie. No wonder he wants to look good."

Von Karma snorted. "It's hardly my concern if he's ashamed of the fact he stayed hidden like a rat all the time," he retorted "had he reported what had happened the moment the murderer left, no time would have been lost and the culprit could be under arrest already!"

"I wasn't hiding like a rat, I was… I…" Luke's voice trembled as though he was close to crying, which alarmed Gant: if he began wailing and his mother heard him, she could have decided not to let them keep questioning the boy – and getting a permission to do so from the judge would have been a pain. He had to do something to soothe the kid, and quickly.

"Manny, he's eight," Gant said, his voice a little less friendly now, his gaze just a little sharper – the let-me-handle-this kind of gaze – but he was smiling again when he turned back to Luke "you know, Luksey, I think hiding was good thinking from your part."

Luke sniffled, but he looked at him somewhat hopefully. "Was it?"

"But of course. Who knows, maybe the murderer lingered outside. If you ran into him while getting out of the basement and he got you, now we'd have two victims and no witnesses, don't you think?"

"I… guess so," the child said, reaching to dry his cheek with the sleeve of his pajamas.

"Besides, you kept quiet during the murder. A lot of other kids would have screamed and gotten themselves killed in your place. I think you were pretty brave. Trying to come out of your hiding place to confront the killer would have been just stupid, don't you think? And you're a smart kid. Way too smart to risk that much. Isn't that right?"

"Oh… yes! Of course," Luke smiled, straightening himself again "I mean, I thought the police would need me to testify, so I stayed hidden instead of risking. But I could have beaten the murderer if I wanted to," he pointed out.

Von Karma was about to snort and say that he very much doubted that, but he stopped as Gant briefly glanced at him, shaking his head slightly, and settled for just resuming the questioning. "Hmm. In any case, I'd appreciate it if you resumed your testimony and told me the truth this time," he said coldly "what happened after the victim fell?"

Luke shrugged. "Nothing much. The murderer just stood there for a moment and then walked away. I heard his footsteps for a while, then the door opened and-" he paused, frowning a little.

"What is it?" von Karma pressed "the truth, boy!"

"Well, I guess…" Luke hesitated and looked at Gant.

"It's okay, Luksey. You've got to tell us everything."

"Well… I closed my eyes for a few moments after the body fell," he admitted unwillingly "I don't know if he did anything in that moment. The murderer, I mean."

Gant clicked his tongue, playing with the forelock falling between his eyes for a few moments. "The traces in the dust do show something interesting – that the murderer knelt next to the body. Most likely to check if he was really out cold. That's probably what you missed. Nothing important."

"Oh. Good," Luke seemed relieved "so my testimony is still going to help, right?"

"Sure it is. Forget what Fredo said, you're going to be the star of the trial," Gant said with a shrug, completely ignoring von Karma's grunt "is there anything else you can recall?"

Luke grinned, the same grin as a poker player who saved the best card for last. "Oh, yes. I heard the victim calling his killer by name!" he exclaimed almost triumphantly.

If it was for a reaction he was hoping, he wasn't disappointed. "You… _what_?" von Karma snapped after a moment of astounded silence. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his right hand was clenching his left sleeve so tightly that his knuckles were quickly turning white.

Gant, on the other hand, threw back his head and laughed, earning himself a glare from von Karma. "You really are something, eh, Luksey?" he laughed again, clapping a few times "well played – you wanted to save the best part of the beef for last, eh, you sly thing?"

Luke's grin widened. "I impressed you, eh?" he asked smugly.

"I can't say _I_ am impressed. I don't see what's so amusing about this, Gant," von Karma snapped at him, his glare moving from the detective to the boy "I don't appreciate it when my time is wasted. Do you realize that had you told us that right away, the culprit would be under arrest already?"

That made Luke cringe a little. "But the whole stuff is still here, so it's not like he could escape…"

"_Enough_, Atmey," von Karma said sharply "I'm not going to let you waste any more of my time. What's the name?"

"The victim called him Al."

"Just Al, uh? Very well," Gant muttered, getting up from his chair "I'll have the boys looking up for guys with that name among the stuff. If we find just one, we've got our culprit. If there's more then one, then we'll keep them in for questioning while the others can get back to their duties. So, Freddie, do you want to take a look at the ID records for the medicine storage room or to look up for that name in the records of any surgery our victim performed lately?"

"The latter," von Karma said, absentmindedly straightening his cravat while avoiding his gaze, and Gant could easily guess that the main reason for that pick was that to look at the data from the ID records he would have to get in the same room as Wendy Oldbag "starting with the patient who supposedly nearly died recently. If the murderer and the victim were accomplices, that name has to be somewhere in the paperwork regarding that surgery… and on others. We have the first name already – we'll just need a surname. If the ID record shows that he accessed to the storage room with the morphine in it after the night shift began, we've nailed him."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll get the data about the IDs from your number one fan and let you know if I have good news," Gant said, pretending to not have noticed the less than amused glare von Karma was giving him "as for you, colleague, get ready for your first testimony in court," he added, winking at Luke "we'll leave an officer in front of your door until we've got any guy called 'Al' in custody, okay?"

"Can't I come to see how you work?" Luke asked hopefully.

"Don't think so, kid, sorry," Gant replied, opening the door to step outside "but I promise I'll unveil all the tricks to you after we're done, okay? Maybe we can hang together for a while after the trial so that I can give you a tip or two. Too bad you can't go swimming with that arm. Oh well. An ice cream will have to do, yes?"

Luke seemed very close to clapping, much like Gant usually did. "Yes!"

"Good kid. See you later, then," Gant winked at him before getting outside, followed by von Karma. He chuckled as the door closed behind them. "I like the kid. He's a smart one."

"A foolish one," von Karma retorted with a frown "and with a far too inflated sense of self importance that's sure to get him in trouble."

"Look who's talking," the detective replied with a smirk, gesturing for an officer to stand in front of the door.

"Unlike him, and _you_, I have a very good reason to think of myself as important. I am. I'm perfect, and I'm the reason why the number of guilty verdicts has been picking up like never before in the past sixteen years," von Karma said, his posture stiff.

"And I happen to be one of the reasons why you have your nice, shiny record," Gant said affably, no trace of any sharp edge in his voice "a record that's about to grow longer with this case."

"I can't see how that would be thanks to you since you're doing nothing but wasting time," was the reply "do tell your agents to keep in questioning any member of the staff with the murderer's name and get the data of the ID record from that horrible woman. I'd very much like to wrap this investigation up before morning."

* * *

><p>Had anyone been there to see the smirk on von Karma's face as he put down the files he had been reading, they would have been horrified – and, had they been either the culprit or the unfortunate attorney who'd have to defend them, they'd have any right to be. Of course, that was going to have to wait until the trial, but it didn't matter. Von Karma could wait that long.<p>

"Your sentence is already written," he muttered to no one in particular, his gaze fixed on the recurring name he had found in the documents along with Dr. Hewitt – Al K. Seltzer: the name of the next defendant who'd receive his guilty verdict from the hands of Manfred von Karma. He smirked again and reached for his cell phone to call the number on fast dial.

"Hey, Manny. I'd got two news for you. The first one is that there are just two guys by the name Al, a doctor and a nurse. Tell me yours and I'll tell you the second one."

"The victim's accomplice is-"

"Dr. Seltzer."

Von Karma blinked. "How did you…?"

"In a minute, Freddie. Hey, guys, let Mr. Pinkerton go home and place Dr. Seltzer under arrest with the charge of murder, will you? Thanks, you're the best," he heard him talking to the officers before speaking in the phone again "I was waiting for you to confirm he was the culprit, and looks like I wasn't wrong. How I know that is related to my second bit of news. So, ready for that, Manny?"

"Is it about the IDs that accessed to the storage room where the morphine was? What about that?"

"Bingo! Well, turns out that both the doctor and the nurse called 'Al' here accessed to it tonight. But the funny part is who the last one to access was. It was the victim. At fifteen past one."

"What? Impossible!" von Karma exclaimed "he was dead by that time!"

"Yes, and this is where things get interesting. I think our culprit tried to make himself an alibi and ended up incriminating himself instead – it could have worked, but something unexpected happened. Want to take a guess on how I think things went, Fredo?"

Von Karma rubbed his chin in thought as he tried to draw a logical conclusion from the scarce information he had received. "He knelt in front of the victim when the witness shut his eyes," he finally said slowly "but it wasn't to check for reactions. It was to take Dr. Hewitt's ID. The estimated time of death leaves a few minutes of margin, so he was planning on using the ID to lead us to believe the victim died later than he actually did; he had to know that the camera in the storage room is broken. That would have given him the possibility to make himself an alibi for what we'd think would be the actual time of the crime."

"Not bad!" Gant said cheerfully "if only you were as good as swimming as you are at deducing. But something went wrong in his plan, eh?"

"Luke Atmey went wrong," von Karma muttered, more to himself than to Gant, a focused frown on his face "not only he saw the murder happening and could tell us the culprit's name, but the search for him also caused the body to be found much earlier than expected. This means that we could tell that Dr. Hewitt died prior to that access in the storage room, and that Dr. Seltzer couldn't-" he paused and blinked "…Gant, did you find the victim's ID on Dr. Seltzer's person?"

From the other side of the line, Gant laughed. Von Karma was pretty sure he would have clapped hadn't at least one of his hands been busy holding the phone. "Good guess, Manny, old boy!" he exclaimed "yes, it was badly hidden in the internal pocket of his lab coat. Of course, he didn't mean to keep it – I bet my badge that he was planning on putting it back in the victim's pocket right after accessing to the storage room. But by then the body was found, and he was taken in questioning with the rest of the staff and didn't get a chance to get rid of it."

"Perfect," von Karma said, the smirk once again spreading on his lips "we have the motive, decisive evidence and a decisive witness. The trial will be over in less than fifteen minutes, or my name isn't Manfred von Karma anymore!"

"Well, wonderful! BecauseI wouldn't mind dropping by the pool after the trial," Gant commented "why don't you join me? I've always been wondering if your bath suit has frills, too."

Von Karma sighed, choosing to ignore what he had just heard. "Do send an officer to bring me the ID card and the data you collected. Also, make sure the autopsy report is delivered in my office tomorrow morning. I'll let you know what time the trial will start – do warn the witness not to even _dare_ playing some other trick in the courtroom. I'll have a chat with him before the trial starts, of course."

Gant sighed. "Okay, as you wish. Don't scare the kid too much, okay? We need him to be capable of speech during the trial. As for the evidence, do you need an officer to deliver it or do you wish to ask the lovely security guard to do so? She sure would be glad to."

"Don't you dare!" von Karma barked, the mere thought of having to confront Wendy Oldbag ever again giving him the goosebumps.

He could have sworn he heard Gant laughing before hanging the phone.


	3. Trial

_A/N: this was supposed to be the last chapter, but it ended up getting longer so I had to split it in two. Oh well, after a whole chapter for the investigation I guess it fits giving the actual trial a chapter on its own. I hope I didn't make the trial part too boring.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Gant wasn't at all surprised to see a bunch of journalists outside the courtroom that day: while neither the victim nor the defendant were famous, word of the illegal surgery they performed in the hospital at their patients' expenses had caused quite a stir. The trial for the medical malpractice would start soon after the murder trial was over – something completely useless in Gant's opinion since that guy was going to be most certainly declared guilty and given the death penalty – and the journalists were there in the attempt to gather some first-hand information before it even started.<p>

Another thing that didn't surprise him at all once he entered the prosecutor lobby after avoiding all questions was finding the key witness sulking on a couch – he had been forbidden to speak in front of the cameras, no doubt, and it had to be bothering him immensely – with von Karma giving him the last instructions regarding his testimony.

"…obviously, don't you ever dare thinking about pulling a stunt like the one you pulled last time," von Karma was telling him "I expect you to state exactly what you witnessed, which means no senseless lies to make yourself look better and no hiding anything for the shock value. I want you to be very clear on the fact you heard the victim using his murderer's name. Is that clear?"

"Yessir," Luke muttered, still sulking and absentmindedly playing with his cards. Von Karma scowled and snatched them from his hand, causing him to protest.

"Hey, give them back!"

"I will only if you listen. I expect your fullest attention whenever I speak to you," the prosecutor snapped at him, and Luke fell quiet "no, tell me once again what you saw once the victim collapsed – because you did _not_ shut your eyes, did you?"

Luke quickly shook his head. "No, not at all. And I saw him kneeling next to the body-"

"On which side?" von Karma asked sharply.

"The right one."

"Good. And what did the murderer do?"

"He took something from the victim's pocket. An ID card," Luke paused "is this where you show them the ID you found in the murderer's pocket?"

Von Karma nodded. "Precisely. It's a strong piece of evidence on its own, but if you outright say you saw the murderer taking it there will be no space for the defence's useless meddling. Remember not to change one word from the testimony as we prepared it. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Don't worry, Manny, I'm sure my future colleague will do wonderfully," Gant spoke up, walking up to them and winking at Luke "everyone in court will be all ears. Knock 'em dead, kid."

Luke's face brightened. "Yessir!" he said, squirming on his seat.

"Good boy. How about giving him his cards back, Fredo? There are still ten minutes left before the trial starts, and he's so hyped up he could as well explode if he doesn't have something to focus onto."

Von Karma shrugged, a bored look on his face, but he did hand the cards back to Luke, who took them and began trying to shuffle them with his right hand, his left one being still trapped into the cast.

"Need help to shuffle that?" Gant asked, sitting on the couch next to him – the kid was surely going to be a better company than Manny would, especially since he was currently busy fixing his cravat for the millionth time.

"Yes, thanks. I can't do it with one hand," Luke said with a scowl "but I can do a lot of cool stuff to shuffle them when I can use both hands. Stupid cast…"

"Well, that cast is the reason why you got to be the key witness to this case, isn't it? I'd say it was actually a stroke of luck," Gant said, taking the cards to shuffle them, then he turned to von Karma "hey, Freddie, is he really our _only_ witness anyway?"

"Of course. He witnessed the murder. What else would I need?" von Karma asked irritably, still fixing his cravat.

Gant's eyes glinted with amusement. "Well, maybe the security guard who saw no one but doctors and nurses accessing to the room where the shoes the murderer was wearing were…"

"NO!" von Karma shouted before he regained some control "_no_. We already have the written testimony and the tapes to support that. That's no longer the central point of my argument in any case – what matters is that this witness heard the victim calling the murderer's name and then saw the murderer taking the ID card that was found on the defendant's person. Wendy Oldbag's presence is most definitely not needed for this trial, and I would be very grateful if you never mentioned her again. Is that clear?"

Gant shrugged. "Whatever, Manny, whatever," he said with an amused smirk before lowering his eyes on the cards he was shuffling. He chuckled as his gaze fell on the King of Spades. He elbowed Luke lightly. "Doesn't this one look a lot like Fredo?" he asked quietly enough so that von Karma wouldn't hear him.

Luke took a look at the card and chuckled. "A bit," he admitted "what's your favourite card?"

Gant hummed a little before replying with a wink. "If I had to pick, I'd say the King of Hearts suits me," he said with a chuckle "aside from this one weird woman who apparently has the hots for good old Manny, I'm the one who has the most success out of the two of us. What's yours, detective Atmey?"

"The Ace of Diamonds," was the immediate reply.

"The Ace of Diamonds, eh?" Gant repeated "any reason in particular?"

"Because it's an Ace. It's better than any other," Luke proclaimed "also, diamonds are the most precious gems in the world. So the Ace of Diamonds is even more special," he added, glancing at him as if challenging him to state otherwise.

"Oh, yes. Definitely," Gant agreed almost solemnly "you sure want to be special, eh?"

"I _am_ special," Luke retorted, once again oddly challengingly "I just… have to prove that yet."

"Sure you are. And this is the first step to prove it, don't you think?" Gant nodded at the door that led to the courtroom, and Luke turned to see that the bailiff was opening it and announcing the trial was about to start "give them a testimony they won't forget easily and you'll be the hero of the day. It's a good start – mine was stopping a guy from stealing some panties in the cheerleaders' dressing room. Not quite as epic."

That got a laugh out of Luke before he grinned up at Gant. "I'll knock 'em dead," he promised.

"That's the spirit. And do your best, because you've got just one shot at it. I think Manny wants this trial to be over quickly."

"I most definitely do," von Karma commented before turning to Luke "go sit next to detective Gant and don't move. I'll give my opening statement, call him first to give an outline of the case, and then it will be your turn to testify. Until that moment, keep quiet and don't do anything foolish to get attention – last thing I need is having a key witness ridiculing himself in court. And remember I won't accept anything short of a perfect testimony. I'll keep the defence from badgering you too much, but should they press don't even try to come up with anything else but what we already discussed. Have I explained myself?"

Luke had already stuffed the cards in his pocket and jumped on his feet, clearly impatient to enter the courtroom. "Yessir!"

Von Karma nodded. "Very well. Let the trial begin."

* * *

><p>Even though he was so, <em>so<em> impatient to finally get to be on the witness stand and testify in front of everyone, Luke found himself so taken by the trial that the wait, no more than five minutes – von Karma stated from the beginning that the trial wouldn't last more than fifteen minutes and it was clear he wanted to stay true to his word – seemed even shorter than it actually was.

Detective Gant wasn't kidding when he had told him von Karma would rule the court: he really _did_ rule it, tearing apart any kind of attempt the defence made to make a point by proving each of their conclusions wrong with relentless logic, presenting evidence to prove his own points – the prints in the dust, the security tape, the autopsy report, the ID card found on the defendant's person, the data about the accesses to the storage room where the morphine was, the murder weapon, the documents proving the defendant and the victim were accomplices in medical malpractice – and sustaining his own objections with a snap of fingers and with so much authority that the judge hadn't had the courage to even protest for that defiance of his authority.

Detective Gant's testimony wasn't any less amazing in Luke's eyes. He gave a crystal clear description of the murder scene and of every step they had taken to deduce how things went: how one of the unnecessary surgeries performed almost costed a patient's life, how the defendant had gotten scared the victim might talk and had decided to silence him, how the murder happened, how the defendant took the ID to make himself an alibi by using it and how it turned out to be the most definitive piece of evidence in the prosecution's case. His words were carefully chosen leaving no room for misinterpretation, his demeanour perfectly relaxed and even cheerful, and he paused just in the right moments – staring quite unnervingly at the attorney should he try to press him too much – to leave room for von Karma to present the evidence to back up each statement he made.

Luke wondered if they had prepared it the way von Karma had helped him preparing his own testimony or if they were just so used to it that it came natural to them working together like an efficient machine with well-oiled gears – their teamwork pure, undeniable perfection: if they had worked together since day one, it was no wonder von Karma had never lost one single case.

But even taken as he was by the scene, Luke knew something was missing – _he_ was missing, the fact there even was a key witness not having been mentioned even once yet. But that was alright, because there were still ten minutes left and von Karma was surely planning to use his testimony as his trump card, so he only had to wait a few more minutes and-

"OBJECTION!"

Luke winced, the defence attorney's shout having snapped him from his thoughts. He felt his mother's hand reaching to take his – she had insisted to sit next to him throughout the trial – and he calmed down. It wasn't like he hadn't heard shouting before: von Karma had thundered his objections more than once already.

"Your Honour, the proof presented up to this moment was purely circumstantial," the attorney was saying "and while the theory the prosecution exposed up to this point is very believable, it isn't enough-"

"OBJECTION!" von Karma thundered "circumstantial, you say? The defence is clearly grasping for straws. There's all that's needed to end the trial here and now. The defendant had the motive, the occasion and an incriminating piece of evidence on his own person – the ID card stolen from the victim's body, which he used himself in the attempt to throw the police off the actual time of death!" von Karma finished, snapping his fingers to prove his point "the verdict has already written itself, and it's GUILTY!"

"That's no definitive proof!" the defence retorted "the defendant already said he found the ID on the floor outside the storage room. Anyone could have stolen it from the victim, even before he was killed, or the victim could have lost it and someone else used it. There is no proof that card was taken after the victim's death!"

"That… is a very valid point," the judge said, though he was looking at von Karma as though apologizing for what he was saying "as much as it seems clear enough to me how things went, I don't think I could consider myself ready to pass judgement unless I'm completely sure that piece of evidence is, indeed, decisive evidence…"

"Pah," von Karma snorted, his arms crossed over his chest and his right hand clenching his left sleeve "I should have known the defence's pathetic attempts at letting a criminal walk free would get us to this point. But no matter. The prosecution can prove without a shadow of doubt that the defendant did take the ID from the victim while he was dead or at least dying already, and that he did so after murdering him. There is a witness for this case – a patient who witnessed the murder!"

Murmurs of surprise resounded through the court, and Luke's stomach jumped with excitement and his heart to start thundering in his chest – that was his great moment, finally! He barely even felt his mother's grip around his hand tightening as he leant forward on his seat, ready to jump on his feet any moment.

"Order! Order!" the judge had to shout a couple of times before the murmurs ceased "did I hear correctly? The prosecutor has another witness to call to the stand?"

"Precisely. This witness is of the utmost importance for not only he witnessed the murder and heard the victim calling his murderer by name, but also because the fact he went missing from the paediatric ward that night started a search that led to finding the body earlier than the murderer, Dr. Seltzer, would have expected – making it impossible for him to create his alibi and forcing him to keep incriminating evidence on his person."

The judge blinked. "The paediatric ward? Is the witness a child? That calls for some caution-" he trailed off as von Karma snorted and snapped his fingers.

"Nonsense! The child agreed to testify, and his mother agreed to let him. There is no reason why he shouldn't be called to the stand – with his testimony, this trial will be over seven minutes from now!"

"I see. Well, if there isn't any objection-"

"Of course there isn't," von Karma snapped, making him shut his mouth "the prosecution calls Luke Atmey to the stand!"

Finally! Luke jumped down his seat so quickly that he almost stumbled forward, but Gant – who was returning to his seat to leave the stand to him – caught him before he did.

"Hey, don't break any other bone before you testify. Keep calm, okay? Keep calm and talk, and you'll do great."

Luke grinned up at him. "Sure!" he exclaimed before almost running to the stand. He heard a few people in the courtroom chuckling, but it was okay – if they liked him, he mused, they'd be more inclined to believe him. Luke reached the stand and climbed on a chair the bailiff had put there for him to stand onto. He looked at the courtroom, basking in the knowledge all gazes were fixed on him, trying his best not to start smiling widely – but he suddenly didn't feel too much like smiling when his eyes fell on the defendant's seat.

Dr. Seltezer was a tall man with sandy hair and a pale complexion, and the way he was staring at him with his eyes narrowed and his hands clenched into fists almost made him freeze – almost. Von Karma's voice snapped him out of it right away.

"Witness, state your name and occupation for the court."

Luke immediately tore his gaze away from the defendant and focused on the rest of the courtroom, clearing his throat a bit so that his voice wouldn't shake. "I'm Luke Atmey. I'm a grade-schooler. But I want to be a detective when I grow up," he added, hoping it would sound better than just saying he went to school. Some people in the courtroom chuckled again, the judge included, and Gant gave him a slight nod; even von Karma seemed to think that the fact the judge and the other people in court liked him would work in the prosecution's favour, for he said nothing about it. He just turned to the judge.

"Since I want to be done with this before the nine minutes left run out, I think it would be better for everyone if we didn't lose any time. The defence should cross-examinate the witness as he goes."

"What?" the attorney stammered "but Your Honour, this is not the usual procedure!"

"I see no reason why an exception couldn't be made, at least in consideration of the witness' young age – wouldn't it be for the best if this child didn't have to be repeat the same tragic events twice?" von Karma asked with a smirk, clearly knowing that argument would give the judge a nudge in the direction he wanted.

He wasn't wrong about that. "The prosecution does have a point: there is no need to put a child through unnecessary stress. The defence will cross-exanime him as the testimony goes. Now, my boy," he added, turning to Luke "explain the court how you ended up on the crime scene, and what you witnessed there."

Luke – who had to bite his tongue all the time not to start yelling that he was just fine and that he would have no problem repeating what he had seen a million times – nodded impatiently. "Sure. That night I couldn't sleep because my arm still hurt and I was bored, so I left my room at thirty past midnight. I know that was the right time because I looked at the clock before going. Then I got lost, and-"

"HOLD IT!"

The yell coming from the defence attorney startled him, but just for a moment: von Karma had warned him that the defence would surely press him in the attempt of driving him into saying something wrong. He turned to look at the attorney as he spoke again. "Are you saying that no one working in the hospital during the night shift noticed you?"

"OBJECTION!" von Karma immediately countered "whatever argument the defence is trying to make doesn't stand. Some parts of the hospital are under video surveillance, though the security guard who was supposed to watch the screens in that moment was elsewhere in the building in place of an absent guard. There are security tapes we retrieved showing the witness wandering though the hospital thirty-five minutes past midnight, which means the boy is telling the truth: he was, indeed, wandering in the hospital without anyone noticing. The fact he was missing from his room wasn't discovered until one in the morning – and he was missing because in that exact moment he was in the basement witnessing the murder of Dr. Hewitt!"

The judge nodded. "Very well, the court accepts the tapes into evidence. I suppose this means-"

"Objection sustained, of course," von Karma cut him off with a snap of his fingers "go ahead, witness. Where did your useless wandering get you?"

"In the basement, the one with all those boilers," Luke replied "I saw the sign on the door saying no one but the personnel was allowed, so I got curious and went to investigate."

"I see. A child's curiosity knows no bounds. I remember back when I was a child myself-" the judge began, staring ahead almost dreamily, but he was cut off as von Karma cleared his throat and immediately got back on topic "uh… oh, yes. Anyway… you can continue your testimony, witness."

Luke nodded eagerly. "Yessir," he said, turning to look at the people in the courtroom again – he just loved it how they all kept staring at him, listening so carefully everything he had to say! "I walked inside. The door made a bit of noise when I pushed it, because it wasn't really well oiled at the hinges. There wasn't much light inside and I almost tripped on a step before my eyes grew used to the dark…"

"HOLD IT! How can you have witnessed the murder if it was too dark to-"

"OBJECTION!" von Karma barked before wiggling his finger at the defence attorney "the boy just stated that his eyes grew accustomed to light. Not to mention that while the lights near the entrance aren't working, there are some working ones in the place where the murder happened; I made sure of it myself. Not to mention that the witness was very, very close to them defendant and his victim when the murder took place. Do explain why, witness."

"Yessir," Luke said, this time unable to hold back a huge smile – that was the great moment! "I was about to leave, but then I heard the voices of two men talking. They were behind the big boiler in the middle of the basement. I approached, but they couldn't see me because I was on the other side of the boiler – and I was silent, too," he added, his chest swelling. He had been so smart by not letting them hear nor see him. He was sure Sherlock Holmes couldn't have done better.

"And what were they talking about?" von Karma urged him.

"One of them was very, very angry. The one called Stan – I heard the murderer calling him that. He kept saying they had gone too far and that a patient had almost died. The other one was calmer, he said all would go well, but Stan wouldn't calm down. He said they were in a lot of trouble, that they would be caught if someone looked into the matter, and then… then he called the other man by name."

Murmurs echoed in the courtroom again, and it a few moments for the judge to bring back some order – all while von Karma glanced at the clock impatiently. Luke followed his gaze – four minutes left. "And of course, the witness is going to repeat for us how the victim address his murderer. Won't you, witness?"

"Yes!" Luke's gaze fell on the defendant again: he looked deathly pale and his eyes were so narrowed that they were nothing but slices of pure malevolence as he glared at him, but he was so hyped up that he couldn't bring himself to care. It wasn't like he could do him any harm anyway. "He called him Al."

"And the defendant's name," von Karma said, his voice raising to that the murmurs that were barely starting again would die down right away so that the whole court would listen to him "is Al K. Seltzer."

"OBJECTION!" the defence attorney exclaimed, but he was now sweating bullets and clearly grasping for straws "the defendant is not the only man by that name who works in that-"

"OBJECTION!" von Karma cut him off "there is only one other person with the same first name working on the night shift in that hospital – a nurse. But not only that man was not involved in any of the surgery performed illegally that was the cause of that discussion – he was also working with several other rooms in a whole other wing of the hospital the moment the murder took place. We already know that the murderer had to be either a doctor or a nurse because of the shoes he was wearing – shoes that, as I already proved, no one outside the hospital would have been able to have that night. Only one person by that name could possibly be the one Dr. Hewitt was discussing with and thus the one who murdered him – his accomplice in the medical malpractice, Dr. Al K. Seltzer!"

"But… I…" the defence attorney swallowed and reached to wipe some sweat off his brow "we're still missing the… definitive proof…"

Von Karma clicked his tongue disapprovingly, wiggling his finger at him once again. "As I said earlier, we already have definitive proof – the victim's ID. The witness will now clear for us that it was undoubtedly taken from him by the murderer when he was dead or dying already. Witness, we're listening."

"Sure you are," Luke quipped before clearing his throat a little under von Karma's glare "uh… anyway, when I understood they had to be talking about something illegal, I decided to hide so that I could get closer and listen without being spotted. I crawled under the boiler-"

"For the record," von Karma cut him off "the witness was found twenty minutes after the murder happened squatted under that same boiler. You can resume your testimony."

"Okay. So, I squatted under the boiler and crept a bit closer. I could see their shoes from there. Then the man called Al said something about how he wouldn't let Stan take him down with him should he spill the beans and… I think he grabbed him and pulled him closer, at least that's what I it looked like by the way his feet were dragged forward. He gasped, and a moment later he tumbled on the ground, on his back. He had a syringe sticking from the base of his neck."

"HOLD IT!" the defence attorney cried out "if you didn't see the murderer's face-"

"OBJECTION!" von Karma cut him off "I think the witness and the proof we have provide us more than enough elements to identify the murderer. In any case, what's really important comes next – it's what makes the ID card definitive proof of the defendant's guilt. Witness, tell the court what you saw next."

Luke swallowed – that was it, the moment he'd have to… well, not to really _lie_, just to correct his testimony a bit. After all, von Karma had told him, it was obvious who the murderer was… and letting him walk free just because he, Luke Atmey, had shut his eyes for a few moments would unacceptable. He drew in a deep breath. "Then, once the victim was on the floor, the murderer knelt next to the victim's side. The right one. He took something from the victim's body – a green and blue card."

"The traces in the dust whose picture I showed you before show clearly that the murderer did kneel next to the victim. And this," von Karma spoke up, holding up the card in question "is what the witness saw the murderer taking from his victim – the ID card that was later found on Dr. Seltzer's person. Your Honour," he said, turning to the judge "now you have all the elements you need to pass judgement here and now. The defendant had the motive and the occasion; he was the only one by that name who could possibly carry on the deed and he had on himself what we now know beyond doubt being an extremely incriminating piece of evidence. Dr. Al K. Seltzer is without a shadow of doubt Dr. Hewitt's murderer!"

This time it wasn't just murmurs that echoed in the court after von Karma's speech – it was an uproar. The judge had to slam his gavel more than once to have some order again. "Order! Order! I will have order!" he shouted before the people in court quieted and he finally nodded. "The prosecution has proved its point. The case seems very clear, actually: I truly see no reason to prolong this trial any longer. The court finds the defendant, Al K. Seltzer, guilty. The accused will surrender to the court immediately to be held pending trial to a higher court within a month from today's date. That is all. The court is adjourned," he proclaimed before slamming his gavel – the very same moment von Karma smirked, glancing at the clock.

"Fourteen minutes," Luke heard him muttering in satisfaction over the murmurs and comments in the court, but he wasn't really paying attention – what really _mattered_ was that a criminal, a murderer, had been convicted thanks to _him_. Not that was the kind of thing that would make everyone at school admire him!

He grinned widely as he jumped down the witness stand and began to walk back where his mother and detective Gant were sitting – but before he could take more than a few steps several things happened in the same moment.

First of all there was a cry of rage echoing in the courtroom, and a second later the bailiff who had been about to take Dr. Seltzer into custody was slammed on the ground a few feet from Luke and hit his head on the ground. There was a cry then – 'he has the gun, he took the bailiff's gun!' – whose meaning he had no time at all to grasp, because only a second later a strong arm was wrapped around his neck and he was pulled back, his back pressing against someone's body.

He tried to break free out of instinct, but then he froze as he felt something round and cold and heavy pressing against his temple and heard the man who was holding him screaming. "Freeze, everyone, or you'll have to pick up his brains from the floor!"

And then the realization hit him, he knew what had happened, and he stilled completely, eyes widening in terror – the man he had just helped convicting, the _murderer_ he had helped convicting, was now holding a gun to his head and was ready to pull the trigger if anyone made a move to stop him. Luke opened his mouth to speak, but he found himself unable to say a word, his heart thundering in his chest. He saw everyone in the courtroom had stilled, and so had his mother, pure terror etched in her features, and he wanted to apologize to her because things got out of hand again, but then a calm, almost casual voice spoke up.

"Don't be stupid, Doc," Gant said, his eyes fixed in the man's "this is only going to get you in worse trouble."

Dr. Seltzer gave a barking laugh. "More trouble? I'll be sentenced to death, you idiot. I have nothing to lose anymore," he began to walk towards the exit, dragging Luke with him, the gun still pressed against his temple "should any of you try to follow me, the kid dies."

"You don't really think you're going to make it, do you?" Gant said lightly before gazing down at the man's captive, his green eyes meeting Luke's terrified grey ones "don't worry, Luksey. We'll be getting you back. Stay sharp and keep your eyes peeled – and think, you hear me? Keep thinking."

Luke wanted to say that it was okay, that he was special and he would grow up to be a great detective and so he could handle that guy, but he was too terrified and he couldn't say anything at all and he could only nod as the only thing he could think – _what would he do, what would Sherlock Holmes do?_ – kept storming in his mind without him being able to come up with any kind of answer.

Then the man was dragging him outside the courtroom without anyone being able to stop him, and all Luke heard before the heavy doors closed behind him and his captor was his mother desperately calling out his name.


	4. Chase

_A/N: I'm sorry it took me some time to update, I got busy with exam and needed to update another fic. Again, this chapter turned out to be longer than expected and I had to cut it in two, so looks like there will be another one after this after all. _XD  
><em>But the next one will be the last, I promise.<em>

* * *

><p>"Well," Gant muttered, reaching to scratch the back of his head while he observed the parking area thoughtfully "that was unexpected."<p>

"That's what happens when incompetent oafs such as that one are considered fit to be bailiffs," von Karma said dryly, shooting an annoyed glance at his left, where a few people were trying to somehow comfort Ms. Atmey – who, on the other hand, was quickly getting hysterical. As though that was going to get anything solved, he thought in distaste. Not to mention that, as far as he was concerned, that foolish child's safety wasn't worth that much of a hassle; especially not now that he was done playing his role as the key witness in the trial.

"Good point. The guy should put up some muscle. Maybe swim a little more often. Ah well, guess I'd better get going," Gant said with a sigh. They had ran outside just in time to hear – not to _see_, to his annoyance – a car leaving the parking lot at full speed, and he was fairly sure the good doctor had stolen a car to aid his escape with the hostage. He had no idea doctors could be _that_ good at stealing cars.

"Are you just going to drive around blindly in hopes to catch him by sheer luck?" von Karma scoffed "we don't even know what kind of car he's driving yet. And even if the security camera caught it on tape, it's a given he'll steal another one as soon as he gets the chance."

Gant clicked his tongue. "Well, we have to follow the standard procedure. There will be roadblocks, a bulletin describing him and the kid will be broadcasted to all out units, and the guys in the department will look into his life to try to figure out where he could go. But yeah, we'll _also_ be driving blindly in hopes to be going in the right direction when we finally have a clue of where he's heading. And to think I wanted to go swimming this afternoon."

"I see. Well, have fun with your wild goose chase," von Karma said before turning to walk away.

"Aw, I hoped you'd try to help us out too, Manny. After all, it's _your_ convict who just escaped."

The prosecutor snorted. "He's stopped being of my concern the moment the sentence was passed, Gant. I got the guilty verdict I wanted for him. As a prosecutor, I'm a guardian of law only inside the court. What happens outside it is not of my concern."

"The kidnapping did happen inside the court," Gant pointed out cheekily.

"Not by my responsibility. I had my role to play and I fulfilled it – perfectly. Time for you to fulfil yours," he added, nodding towards the police car that stopped in front of them.

Gant sighed. "One can't discuss with you, eh, Fredo? Ah well. Tell Ms. Atmey not to worry too much. I'll be getting Luksey back safe and sound," he said before getting into the car – but as the agent began driving out of the parking lot, he took out his cell phone and dialled a number, an amused glint in his eyes.

Manfred von Karma observed the car leaving with a blank expression, but then he turned to look at the courthouse, and a slight frown creased his brow. He kept staring at it for a few minutes, lost in thought. He had no doubt that Gant would catch the escapee soon, but it still felt unacceptable that a criminal such as that man had managed to escape from the courtroom so easily. Security should be increased, he thought – he was going to point that out to the Chief prosecutor, he decided, so that he's talk to the Chief of police about it. That idiot couldn't deny any request – no, _order_ – from Manfred von Karma, for he was fully aware of the fact that the only reason why _he_ wasn't Chief prosecutor in his place was his unwillingness to work away from the courtroom. He could take that position from him any moment, so he would simply obey and-

"Looks like the perfect prosecutor let a defendant get away," a familiar voice muttered behind him with thinly disguised amusement "had to happen, I suppose. And in a rather foolish way, to boot. You thought you had him, didn't you?"

Von Karma gritted his teeth, suddenly reminded of the reason why he had always let Gant speak with _that_ particular forensics expert any time forensics were needed on a crime scene – she had the uncanny ability to infuriate him while most people could manage to annoy him at most, the way a bothersome but worthless fly would. Granted, she would deliberately _try_ to get on his nerves at any chance she got, probably thanks to the knowledge he couldn't cut down her salary, no matter how much he wished to, unless the Chief of Police agreed… and von Karma already knew he wouldn't. Being the best in one's field always has some advantages, and he had to grudgingly admit she _was_ the best as far as forensics went. But not perfect like _him_, obviously, which meant she had no right to speak to him as she did. He turned to glare at the woman, who was still smirking and wiggling her finger at him.

"For your information, detective Delacroix, it was the bailiff who let him get away," he said dryly "I obtained the guilty verdict I was aiming for. That was my role, and I fulfilled-"

She clicked her tongue, absentmindedly brushing back lock of light blue hair. "Foolish excuses for a foolish fool who can't admit having been foolishly defeat," she said with a shrug "what do you make of a verdict if the culprit doesn't spend one single day in prison?"

Von Karma clenched his fists, wishing more than anything having an excuse, _any_ excuse, to cut down her salary and knowing he had none. "He will," von Karma snapped "as soon as he's caught, he'll also have to face charges for kidnapping – or for another murder, if he kills the boy."

"And what if he isn't caught?" she retorted "imagine the laughs – the defendant escaping the clutches of the God of prosecutors after kidnapping his key witness. Even juicier if said key witness gets killed."

Von Karma stiffened. He could imagine it well, _so_ well. Not that it mattered, for his perfect record was safe – he _had_ gotten the guilty verdict and nothing of what had happened afterwards was his responsibility – but the idea those pathetic defence attorneys would have _any_ kind of edge to try making it sound like it had been a failure from _his_ part made his blood boil.

"He _will_ be caught and he _will_ face the death penalty, or my name isn't Manfred von Karma," he seethed before glaring at her "I trust you can update me on whatever progress the police makes – or is that kind of information reserved to those who outrank you?" he asked scathingly.

"Of course I can. What kind of foolish question is that?" she asked, a little more coldly.

"Very well. In that case I want you contact me in case any new information comes up, no matter how small. I'll be looking into Dr. Seltzer's life. He can't possibly hope to make it on his own. He'll have to turn to someone," he added almost to himself before turning his back to her and marching away.

Detective Delacroix stared at his retreating back for a few moments, then a small smirk curled her lips. She took her cell phone from her pocket and dialled a number before bringing it to her ear. "He's on it," she said as soon as Gant took the call.

From the other side of the line, Damon Gant laughed. "My dear, I was sure you'd manage to convince him."

"I just let his foolish pride do the work," was all she said "let's see what the _genius_ can cook up this time. Do you have any update?"

"Yes, the boys in the department got a frame from the parking lot's surveillance camera. We know what kind of car he took and we have part of the plate number. At least now we know what car we're looking for – it belongs to a prosecutor, really. One Winston Payne."

"Payne? Never heard of him."

"I can't remember anyone like that either, but oh well, can't remember them all, eh? I bet he doesn't hit the public pool often, maybe I'd remember him if he did. Anyway, seems like this guy didn't show up for a trial that was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago, so maybe he was taken hostage as well. The car that was taken is beyond doubt his anyway. It makes things easier."

"Until Seltzer steals another one. He would be a fool to think you don't know what car to look for by now."

"My, how come you and Freddie can't be optimistic for a change?" Gant sighed "you two should learn to relax. Swimming would help. Tell you what, one of these days we should all go to the beach together and-" he trailed off as he realized she had hung the phone. He rolled his eyes and put the phone back in his pocket. "Those two don't know what fun is," he complained to a rather confused agent before grinning at him "say, how about letting me drive from now on?"

* * *

><p><em>What would he do? What would Sherlock Holmes do?<em>

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make himself answer to the question that kept running over and over in his brain. He drew in a deep breath to try calming down – he didn't really like it how trembling each breath he drew in was – and tried to focus, blocking out the worry for the fact he was sitting in the passenger seat of a stolen car with a murderer who was driving with one hand and keeping a gun pressed on his left side with the other one.

Things had _definitely_ gotten out of hand. And this time his mother wouldn't be there to make everything better.

_Focus, Luke, focus. What would Sherlock Holmes do?_

He didn't know. No matter how much he focused, he couldn't come up with an answer. He hadn't actually read all the Sherlock Holmes stuff he had yet, but he was pretty sure that he had never been kidnapped, so he couldn't imagine what he would do if he were in his shoes aside from deducing stuff and getting out of that sticky situation. _How_ he would get out of that sticky situation while being held at gunpoint, though, was something he couldn't imagine. So maybe he should just stick to deducing for now, and then he would… he… how could he act with a broken arm anyway? He swallowed, trying his hardest not to panic.

_It doesn't matter. You can win without using strength. __Brains over brawn. Mind over matter. __Think. Deduce. Deduction always comes first. Focus. __Detectiv__e Gant told you to focus – it's what he would do, isn't it? __So what would detective Gant do?_

Luke opened his eyes again and dared to glance at his captor. He was sweating bullets and staring at the road ahead with a grimace on his face, his left hand on the wheel, and aside from the gun he kept pressed against his left side – the reason why Luke didn't dare to move anything but his head – he wasn't even acknowledging his presence. He was speeding so much that Luke couldn't even hear the faint bumps coming from the trunk anymore, the engine's roar easily covering them.

Luke faintly wondered if the guy in the trunk would make it okay. He was closing the car when Dr. Seltzer had hit him on the head with the handle of the gun before stuffing him into the trunk, shoving Luke on the passenger's side and driving off. Luke supposed he hadn't left him behind so that he wouldn't tell the police what kind of car he had taken right away – but they would find out eventually, which meant that the most logical thing to do for Seltzer now would be stealing another car and leaving that one behind.

Maybe he could take advantage of that to try running away, he decided before looking ahead through the windshield, hoping to catch sight of some sign that could tell him where they were heading. Not that it would do him much good now, but if he could find a way to leave a clue of any kind to detective Gant…

Still, he read none: the few he caught a glimpse of went by too quickly for him to read. That guy was breaking all speed limits, and Luke briefly wondered why had no one noticed and started pursuing them before he forced himself turn his attention back to the road signs. If he could make him to stop, or slow down enough for him to read at least one…!

"I need to use a toilet," he finally spoke up a little hesitantly, breaking the icy silence for the first time.

Dr. Seltzer seemed startled for a moment, as though just reminded of his presence, then he gave a barking laugh. "Then hold it, because I'm not stupid enough to stop at the side of the road."

"I'll pee my pants if you don't," Luke said, trying to sound somewhat threatening "I have to-" he trailed off as the gun was pressed harder against his side, making him yelp.

"Shut up and hold it, or else this car is going to be such a mess that a little urine won't make any difference," he growled, his gaze still fixed ahead.

Luke swallowed, then he tried to gain some courage. "You wouldn't. You need me alive to-" he began, but any shred of courage he had managed to gather up to that point seemed to disappear as the gun suddenly stopped pressing against his side and was lifted so that it was aiming straight at his face – there were no other cars around them right now, of course, or else Seltzer wouldn't have dared to lift the gun like that.

"I'm going to need you alive only until we make it to Ventura County," the man said quietly before lowering the gun so that it was pressing against Luke's side again, hidden from the gazes of anyone else outside the car "afterwards, whether you'll live or not is up to you. Don't annoy me, and you'll be okay. Got it?"

He was lying, Luke knew that much: he was going to kill him so that he couldn't tell anyone where he had gone; his only hope was that detective Gant would stop him before he could – and now he knew where they were heading. It was a start. Now he knew what he could do to leave him a clue; he only needed a minute alone, just a minute…!

As if to answer to his unexpressed plea, Dr. Seltzer suddenly turned on the direction lights and began turning to their right, to a service station. He drove in the parking lot, heading for the most secluded part of it, his eyes scanning the parked cars – and he didn't have to look for long, for only a few feet from them there was an old green pickup with its door open, its owner leaning against it while busily chewing on a donut. He pulled the car to a stop and turned to hiss at Luke. "One move and you're dead, Pinocchio. You and the guy in the trunk. Got it?"

Luke immediately nodded, eyes wide.

"Good," he said before tucking the gun his pocket and walking out of the car, taking car to close it so that Luke couldn't get out before he walked up to the other man. Luke watched for a few moments as they talked – maybe Dr. Seltzer would say he needed something so that he could hit him once he turned – but then he stopped watching and reached in his pocket to take out his deck of cards and the pencil he had used for crossword puzzles in the hospital, careful not to lift his hands so that Seltzer couldn't see what he was doing from outside the car.

Trying to ignore the bumps coming form the trunk, he worked quickly, barely taking time to glance outside to make sure Dr. Seltzer was still busy with that man, and he was done just in time as his captor finished tying the poor guy up with some tape he had found in the pickup. Seltzer threw the man's unconscious form on the backseat and walking back to the car Luke was sitting into. He opened the door of the passenger's side and roughly grabbed Luke's healthy arm to pull him out. "Out."

"Wait, my cards!" Luke whined convincingly, pretending to be trying to reach for the deck that now sat on the seat he had occupied until that moment, and he had to suppress a smile of triumph as the man growled impatiently and just yanked him out of the car, leaving the cards just where he had left them, in plain sight.

Only minutes later, though, sitting on the backseat next to the unconscious man, gagged and with his healthy arm tied behind his back with duct tape – he couldn't do much with his broken one anyway – he didn't have much to smile about: he knew all too well that Ventura County couldn't be that far anymore, and that unless detective Gant found them in time he was as good as dead. He was sure Gant would know where to look once they found the other car – because he was a great detective and great detectives know where to look – but the question was, how much time would it take for the police to find the car? Would they find it soon enough?

Luke Atmey was young, but not inclined to believe in anything that couldn't be logically explained, and miracles couldn't be logically explained – so he didn't believe in miracles at all. Still, as he shut his eyes and listened to Dr. Seltzer's mutters and to the engine's roaring, he wished for a miracle with all his might.

* * *

><p>Luke would never get to know it, but not even five minutes after they left the parking lot his very own miracle happened in the form of a rather disgruntled teen with impossibly spiky hair pushing an old scooter through the parking lot and to the gas station, an apparently endless stream of curses leaving his mouth.<p>

"I shoulda known this piece of crap woulda left me on foot," Furio grumbled, taking a break from pushing and looking towards the end of the parking lot, where the gas station was. How come that darn thing seemed to grow farther instead of closer? That seriously sucked. Of all things that could stop working, did it have to be the gas gauge? At least the scooter had stopped very close to the service station, otherwise he would have been in a heap of-

Furio Tigre was snapped from his thoughts by a sudden bumping noise. He blinked and looked around to see nothing out of the ordinary, just cars. He was about to shrug it off when something about one of the cars caught his eye – the door on the passenger's side was slightly open. Furio took a quick look around to make sure there was no one nearby, then he shrugged before leaving the scooter on the kickstand and approaching to take a look: maybe there was something worth taking in it, and he wasn't one to let a chance pass by. Besides, if someone was dumb enough to leave a car's door open they probably deserved to-

Another sudden bumping noise made him stop in his tracks, then a shout followed, and he realized that the noises were coming from inside the car's trunk. "Da fuck?" he blurted out, taking a step back. He stared at the trunk for a few more moments, then another shout came from inside and he recoiled. His hand reached in his pocket to pull out a switchblade – it wasn't enough for some serious locks-picking job, but that was an old car with old locks, so it could do – and he crouched in front of the trunk.

It took him just a minute to force the lock open. Furio stood up and opened it to see a man in his late twenties with black hair and thick glasses lying in it and gasping for air, his skin glossy with sweat. He gave a hoarse cry as the trunk was finally opened and tried to sit up, only succeeding in doing so at the third attempt. "What the-" the teen began, but he trailed off as the man reached to grab his shirt, still gasping for air.

"T… the child," he wheezed, eyes still half-closed behind his glasses to shield them from the sudden light "he had a child… knocked me out… police…"

"Wait, what?" Furio asked, frowning a little "a kid knocked youse out? Youse kiddin', right? Calm the hell down and-"

"THE POLICE!" the man shrieked somewhat hysterically, causing him to wince and take a step back, fighting the urge to cover his ears against the high-pitched shriek – what that _really_ a guy? "Call the police!"

"Fine, fine! Just calm down, okay?" Furio said before turning on his heels and running to the service station, more to get away from those brain shattering shrieks than for real worry. As he ran, taking a mental note to put gas in his scooter and get the hell away from there before the police arrived and he could get involved into any kind of mess, he couldn't hold back a chuckle at the thought that it was the first time _he_ was the one to call the police rather than having it called _on_ him. Ironic.

He just hoped none of his friends would ever find out.

* * *

><p>"Well, it was a fun ride, wasn't it?" Gant said lightly as he pulled the car to a stop, apparently unaware of the fact the agent on the passenger's seat was sickly pale and sweating bullets. The poor man tried to utter something, but the detective was out of the car before he could utter a word. Damon Gant barely turned to glance at the agents writing down the testimony of a rather shaken Payne – he had been already told the man had spent all the time in the trunk, so he couldn't be useful in any way – and headed straight to the car, which was being examined by a few men already.<p>

"Tell me you've got good news for me, Petey," he said, standing next to the agent who was currently inspective the driver's side.

"I'm afraid there's nothing of interest here, sir," the man said with a sigh "no sign of struggle, which is no surprise since the hostage is so young and probably frightened, but at least there is nothing indicating he was harmed in any way."

"I don't think the good doctor would harm his life insurance before he feels like he's safe," Gant said thoughtfully "he's the kind of guy who doesn't take off the lifejacket until he's at the shallow end of the pool. Boring people, but that makes our job easier. What of the person who called the police?"

"Male, most likely just a teen judging by the voice. He had a strong accent – probably from some part of New York, according to the agent who took the call. But he didn't give us his name or personal data, and he wasn't here when we arrived. He seems to have nothing to do with this mess, though. Payne was blinded by the sudden light and didn't get a good look of him before he ran off to call the police, but he says that he got him out of the trunk little time after Seltzer had escaped with the boy. Probably just a bystander who heard his shouting and took a look. Do you think we should…?"

Gant shook his head. "Nah, no need to. I think the boy has nothing to do with this, and trying to track him down would only be a waste of time. He did us a favour, so let's leave it at that and let's get looking for our good doctor, okay? He must have stolen another car," he added, letting his gaze run through the parking lot "are there cameras here? They could have caught a glimpse of something."

"Negative, sir. No cameras – there is one at the exit, but it's broken."

Gant scowled a little. "This isn't looking good, is it? We still don't know where he's heading, and now we don't know what car he took. And if he took the owner hostage like he did with Payne, we could never get to know in time… what's that?" he asked, having finally noticed something the agent was holding – a deck of cards in a small plastic bag.

"This? Oh, I found it inside the car, sir. Seems like there are prints on them, but they're small and most likely belong to the hostage – not that it has any meaning since we know exactly-" he trailed off with a slight gasp as Gant reached out to snatch the bag from his hand "sir?"

Gant didn't listen to him and gave a low hum before slipping his gloved hand into the bag and taking the cards. He carelessly let the bag fall on the ground and observed the cards more closely, grabbing a few of them and flipping them to check on both sides.

"I already took a look, sir, but it seems like it's just a common deck of cards. The boy probably dropped them and-"

"Nah, I don't think so," Gant cut him off before he began shuffling through the cards "Luksey is not that careless, you see. He's a bright kid. And if there's something here, it's meant for those who know where to look. He couldn't risk to have his captor catching him so easily while trying to sneak info to us, could he?"

The agent was about to ask what he meant, but he had his reply before even asking: only seconds later Gant gave a booming laugh and held up a card so that the agent could see its back. There was something hastily scribbled on it with a pencil – part of a license plate. "See?" Gant said with a huge grin "he did this. He left a clue for us. Smart kid, isn't he? Now, if I'm not mistaking, there should be two more bits of info for _moi_…"

Gant shuffled through the cards again and he was grinning widely as he picked two more cards and looked on their back. "Very well, looks like the good doctor is heading for Ventura County on a green pickup. I'll let the boys in the department know what the license number is so that we can identify exactly what model we're dealing with." he said before giving the agent a powerful pat on the shoulder "great job, Petey," he said cheerfully even though the other man hadn't done much of anything, then he turned to walk back in his car.

He sat on the driver's seat and reached for the radio, taking a few minutes to pass the license plate number to the agents in the department, to order for all units available to converge to Ventura County and for roadblocks to be placed, then he started the engine. "I'm going ahead. Alone," he added, causing the man who had been about to climb on the car to freeze "you follow me, okay? Great. Good boys. We should go swimming together after we're done here," he said before he drove off, and he began speeding as soon as he was out of the parking lot; he didn't think Seltzer had _that_ much of an advantage on the police now, but he wasn't going to take risks. One minute too late could be fatal to the kid, and that would be a pity: the little guy had potential, he mused before reaching to call a number on fast dial, holding the wheel with the other hand.

"Delacroix here."

"Hi there, Françoise! I've got news. We know where he's heading – well, kind of. He's heading for Ventura County, and that narrows the field, but not quite enough."

"Ventura County? That close?" she sounded perplexed "that's… curious. Why isn't he trying to go father than that? Maybe he has a reason to go there…"

"Exactly what I thought. Which means it would be great if a certain genius got his gears working on this one and managed to figure out just where he's _exactly_ likely to be heading. As far as I know, the guy spent his whole life in Los Angeles and has no relatives over there. And it would be great finding out soon, because I'm afraid that once he gets there and feels safe, the kid is a goner. Would you mind letting Manny know?"

"Of course. But you owe me a dinner just for the displeasure of dealing with that pretentious fool."

Gant wisely decided not to point out she seemed get a great deal of amusement out of dealing with that 'pretentious fool' Manfred von Karma was – that wasn't the right moment for a discussion. He was going to point it out once that mess was over and he got a well-deserved pool break. "Okay then, a dinner for you. Tell him to call me back once the stroke of genius hits. Thanks, you're the best. Just don't tell Fredo I said that to you, the guy gets jealous," he joked before ending the call.

Grasping the wheel with both hands, he finally allowed himself to speed some more. The Chief of police would have probably wanted his head on a silver platter if he ever got to know just how much he was currently speeding, but hey, that was the main reason why he had wanted to go alone.

As far as he was concerned, speeding was a more than acceptable crime if it meant catching a murderer before he could kill a future colleague.

* * *

><p>"Do you need any help?"<p>

Von Karma frowned, barely turning from the screen to look at the woman standing on the doorway. The offer itself could have passed as helpfulness coming from anyone else, but he knew all to well that, coming from her, it was only meant to be a taunt. "In case your limited intellect kept you from understanding even simple statements, I'd like to remind you I'm perfect," von Karma pointed out scathingly "thus I am, of course, _perfectly_ capable of using any of your computers."

She rolled her eyes. "And you're of course _perfectly_ aware of the fact I shouldn't be letting you use any of them. Aren't you, Herr von Stuffy?"

Von Karma's frown deepened for a moment before he apparently decided her taunt didn't even deserve his attention. "But you're letting me because you know no one in the department has enough brains to figure out in time where Dr. Seltzer is heading. Speaking of which, I suppose the reason why you're here is that you have information I can use. If not, do remove your bothersome self from my presence."

Detective Delacroix snorted. "I do have news from Gant. Looks like he's heading for Ventura County, but we don't yet know where exactly."

Von Karma raised an eyebrow. "And you expect _me_ to guess that?"

"Didn't you just say you're perfect?"

"This doesn't mean I should be doing the work the police is supposed to be doing," was the cold reply, but he was already frowning in thought "unless Gant managed to get it all wrong, Seltzer isn't heading very far away. It's… peculiar."

"Yes, it is rather odd," she agreed, taking a seat in front of the computer as well and ignoring how he shifted a little aside to keep some distance between them "he must have a reason to go there," she reasoned "if I were on the run and had no plan in mind, I'd try to go as far as possible. He's staying very close instead. I don't think it's simple foolishness from his part. "

"He's not trying to just run away. Perhaps he's hoping to find help there – but from who?" von Karma frowned and looked at his notes "his whole family lives in Los Angeles, aside from a few relatives in Massachusetts. If it's from some other acquaintance he's seeking help, I doubt the police's database would be of much help without more information."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you _can't_ crack this one, von Frills?"

"I never said that – of course I can. And I would be grateful if you refrained from using such puerile names when you're speaking to me," he retorted.

Delacroix ignored his last remark. "Then enlighten me, von Perfect. How would you solve this?"

He snorted. "By using logic, obviously. What would _you_ seek if you were on the run? What would help you?"

She didn't even have to think. "Cash, because I'd have no money after being arrested and using a credit card would be a foolish move. And some fake document so that I could leave the country," she paused before smirking "he has a gun and could have obtained cash already, of course, but documents? That's trickier. Do you think that's what he's after right now? It makes sense. Maybe he knows someone in that area who could make him some new documents."

"That's a possibility," von Karma conceded, rubbing his chin "but what good would fake documents do to him while his face has been broadcasted already? Everyone in the police force and most likely a good share of commoners already know his face by now. His future doesn't look bright, unless he's somehow able to change his-" he trailed off and blinked, a sudden idea occurring to him, then he raised his gaze to see that Delacroix was staring down at him as well, eyes wide.

"Do you think…?" she said slowly "I mean, that would be… then again, he _is_ a doctor…"

"…and he's bound to know other doctors," von Karma finished, turning to type something on the keyboard, then he paused and frowned.

Detective Françoise Delacroix smirked. "Trouble with the cross-search feature?" she asked casually, but she didn't wait for him to snap and claim he was perfect and in full control: she just leant forward and began typing "tell me what criteria are you thinking of."

Pressed between the back of his seat and her shoulder, he glared at her. "Are you even vaguely familiar with the concept of personal space?"

"What, am I creasing your precious frills? I'm so sorry," she said a little sarcastically, but there was some smugness underneath the sarcasm "the search criteria, if you will."

Von Karma snorted, but finally dropped the matter. "Do a search for any doctor with experience in facial reconstructions who studied or worked with Dr. Seltzer and who also happens to live or work in Ventura County."

"Sure," she said, typing for a few minutes before hitting enter and pulling back, watching as the search was completed and ignoring how von Karma was straightening his cravat. After a few moments she smirked a little – a result had appeared. "Looks like we have a name. Dr. Ken Hurt – studied in the same university as Dr. Seltzer, same year, same course. They appear to have worked together for a short time before Dr. Hurt specialized in facial reconstruction and moved to Thousand Oaks, Ventura County. And look – he was once suspected of having helped a convicted man to change his appearance to escape prison, but the case against him was eventually dropped for lack of evidence. If _that_ doesn't fit, I don't know what does."

"Of course it does," von Karma pointed out, having apparently decided that he had smoothed his cravat well enough to stop fixing it and look at the screen "my logic is flawless."

"Would you bet your cravat on it, von Flawless?" she asked.

"Quit asking idiotic questions and call Gant, will you?" he snapped, causing her to give something suspiciously close to a chuckle before she took her cell phone and got up, taking a few steps back and forth as she waited for Gant to pick up the phone.

"Gant, it's Delacroix. Look, we-" she trailed off and rolled her eyes a little as von Karma coughed "fine, _fine_. Von Karma found out where he's likely to be heading. Thousand Oaks. He knows someone who lives there, they studied together – a specialist in facial reconstruction. Get the picture? Perfect. I have the guy's address…" she turned to glance at the screen again so that she could read it to him "yes, we're sure. At least, the perfect prosecutor here is. No, I'm not coming any pool later," she turned to look at von Karma, who vehemently shook his head "…no, I don't think he feels like it either. Enough with your foolish questions and focus on catching that guy, last thing I want is knowing that I had to deal with this fool in frills for nothing. Yes, I know. Yes, you're the man – now hang the phone and keep driving, okay? And try not to get shot," she added before ending the call "well, looks like the rest is up to him now. You should leave before the Chief detective notices I let you get into our system. He's a fool, but even he would think something's off if he saw you here," she paused, then she shrugged "anyway… that was some good thinking, Mr. Genius Prosecutor," she conceded.

"It was nothing short of perfect logic," he said stiffly, getting up from his seat and adjusting his cravat once more "now, if you'll excuse me, my work here is done – and, unlike someone, I have some _real_ work to catch up with."

"I can imagine. See you at next week's trial, von Cravat," she said lightly, and she smirked a little at his slight snort as he left. Manfred von Karma was a stuffy, pompous, foolish fool, and there weren't many things she found as amusing as taunting stuffy, pompous, foolish fools.

* * *

><p>Truth to be told, Damon Gant was already a mile or two past the turn for Thousand Oaks when he received the call, but that wasn't much of an issue: driving a police car gives you some advantages, and one of such advantages it being able to do a U turn any moment without any consequence, or almost. Sure, there were a few slammed brakes and shouts, but no one was hurt and so all was well.<p>

Gant ignored the insisted horning coming from some truck that had slewed in to avoid him and just sped up some more; not even minutes he finally took the turn that would lead him to Thousand Oaks, and he smiled. He was certain he was on the right track – Freddie was _never_ wrong – which the end of the line was close for good old Dr. Seltzer. Gant almost felt bad for that guy: he _really_ had chosen the wrong city to kill someone, and the wrong kid to kidnap. You don't escape a courtroom while von Karma is in it _and_ kidnap a future detective without consequences after all.

"I'm coming to get you back, Luksey," he muttered to no one in particular; and only moments later, after getting past a small hillock, he saw ahead of him exactly what he had been waiting to see until that moment.

An old green pickup.


	5. The Court Is Adjourned

_A/N: here's the last chapter, finally. This fic ended up taking more time than expected to be done, but at least it didn't end up getting as awfully long as most of my stuff tends to get, and it sure was fun to write. Thanks a lot to everyone who read/reviewed/faved this, hope this chapter won't disappoint._

* * *

><p>For a moment – just for a moment – Gant's hand lingered over the radio. He knew that normal procedure required him to send a message to all units to let them know the target's position, and only then go after him: chasing anyone down without any kind of backup could end up badly. That was why he almost followed the procedure.<p>

Almost. Because on moment before doing so, it occurred to him that this time the objective wasn't the only one he was chasing after: he also had an hostage, maybe more than one. And good old Dr. Seltzer had a gun. What would be his reaction upon finding out half the police of Los Angeles was about to leap for his throat? Gant's eyes narrowed as he considered that.

Dr. Seltzer was no jaded criminal: until a few days earlier, medical malpractice was the only crime he could commit. Then he had felt threatened, and killed; a premeditated murder, but not such a well thought-out one. The guy was an amateur, and he had done several mistakes to prove that. Yes, Gant thought, that was the kind of man who just lost it when he felt threatened, when he found himself not longer on top of the situation. If he found himself surrounded by police, he'd most likely be too darn scared to think clearly, and who knew how reasonable he'd manage to be then; he could even pull that trigger without even thinking that the hostages happened to be the closest thing he had to life insurance, maybe even as a petty act of revenge on the boy for ratting him out in court. And Gant didn't want that to happen: he had promised Luksey's mom he'd bring him back safe and sound, and he liked keeping his promises when he could.

Second case scenario, Gant thought to himself: he would ignore the procedure and just got after the guy himself. With a hostage to hold at gunpoint, the good doctor would probably thing that facing only one officer wouldn't be too much of a problem. He would think he was still in control, that he could make it out of the situation unscathed, and Gant would let him think so until the right moment. Oh, sure, it would be risky and if anything went wrong he'd get into a world of trouble, but he had faced far worse criminals in far worse situations, and he was pretty confident he could handle that. Besides, he thought with a smirk, if he succeeded it would look so damn _good_ on his record.

_Well, that just about settles it. Time to send the good doctor and Luksey a little message. _

He pulled his hand away from the radio and flipped a switch, his foot pressing harder on the speed pedal.

* * *

><p>Luke could just feel his heart jump in his chest as a wonderful sound he had only heard in movies up to that moment reached his ears – the wailing of a police car's siren. As for Dr. Seltzer, his reaction was a stream of curses Luke would have been almost impressed of had he been paying the slightest attention to what his captor was shouting.<p>

"Stop wiggling, damn you!" Dr. Seltzer barked at the boy before speeding up. The sudden change of pace sent Luke – who had been trying to somewhat rise up despite his bounds to glance behind them through the rear window – tumbling on the floor again, his fall softened by the still unconscious owner of the pickup. He managed to twist so that he wouldn't land on his broken arm and glanced up just in time to see Dr. Seltzer opening the window on the driver's side and turning just for a few seconds, just enough to fire a few shots. Only seconds later there was a sound of shattering glass, and when Dr. Seltzer pulled his head back in with yet another curse Luke could see that the side mirror was no more. Whoever was shooting from the police car sure had a much better aim than his captor did.

Dr. Seltzer seemed to realize that – that, and the fact the pickup wasn't fast enough to escape the police car. He viciously spun the wheel, and a moment later Luke rolled across the pickup's floor again, and the road beneath them suddenly felt bumpy: either the asphalt was suddenly in very bad condition, or they had just left the main road for a minor one, and Luke was inclined to believe the second explanation. Maybe it wasn't even an asphalted one, maybe they had just taken one of the paths that stretched through the countryside. The pickup was sure the right car for that kind of roads, but what about the police car?

Luke struggled again to rise and take a look, but the pickup passed on what had to be a fairly large bump and he fell again. For a moment he almost feared Dr. Seltzer had managed to lose their pursuer, but then he was reassured by the wailing of the siren, still strong behind them – but of course it was still close, Luke mentally scolded himself; no officer would give up on a chase so easily, and he was sure the best men in the force were out to get him back: he was a future colleague, wasn't he? So there, he was a special hostage to save. Despite the situation, the thought would have made his chest swell. He was so going to tell everyone about it once it was all over, and the others in school were going to stare at him in wonder and they would _have_ to finally admire him, and…!

Luke was suddenly snapped by his thoughts by a sharp pain in his arm: Dr. Seltzer had slammed the brakes, causing the car to come to a sudden stop and him to hit the back of the driver's seat, part of his weight landing on his injured arm. He yelped, a sound that was muffled by the cloth that had been used to gag him, and his captor gave no sign of having heard it: he just grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him, and seconds later Luke found himself outside, with Dr. Seltzer's hand still gripping the collar of his shirt and with the gun pointed to his head. He glanced around with wide eyes to see that they were now in the middle of the countryside, in a small clearing surrounded by wheat and only steps away from some old silos – that was where his captor was now dragging him, still keeping him at gunpoint.

The police car that had been pursuing them broke in the clearing only instants later, and Dr. Seltzer fired a few shots at it. One of the bullets hit the windshield and another hit the diver's window, causing it to crack into what looked like an intricate cobweb, but Luke couldn't see if the officer inside had been hit or not before Dr. Seltzer kicked the silos' door open and dragged him inside. The silos was empty, with nothing inside to hide behind, and the man cursed under his breath before settling for just standing in the middle of it, facing the door.

"Don't make a sound," he hissed threateningly, and he didn't even wait for Luke's terrified whine coming from beneath the gag before pulling the gun away from the side of his head and pointing it at the door, which was now ajar. They waited in silence, the only sounds Luke could hear being the man's hissing breath and his own thundering heartbeat, and after a while Luke truly began fearing that the officer had actually been hit by those bullets, that they were gravely injured or even dead, and then maybe no one would make it in time to help-

The door opened with a sudden bang, and the sudden noise was followed by a cry of rage and two more bangs as Dr. Seltzer fired blindly, in hopes to hit whoever had just busted into the silos.

Except that no one had: the doors were not open, but no one had come inside, nor there was anyone standing in the doorway. "What the hell-" Dr. Seltzer began, only to trail off with a sharp intake of breath as an amused, even cheerful voice Luke recognized immediately came from right outside.

"What is it, doc? Did you think I'd run in right after kicking the door open? My, I had hoped you thought higher of me," Damon Gant's laugh filled the room, even while coming from outside "I did warn you, doc – you had no chance of making it."

The other man growled, his grip on Luke's shirt tightening, but the boy didn't even take notice: Gant was there, detective Gant was there – he knew that he would find the clues he had left him, he just knew it! Everything was going to be okay now. He was safe, he was sure of it.

"Do you think you're smart, you bastard?" Dr. Seltzer seethed "I still have the boy, and I have a gun. If you don't do as I say-"

"Say, doc, did you bother to count how many times you shot?" Gant cut him off lightly, as though he had just asked him if he remembered to put sugar in his tea.

A few moments of silence followed. "What game are you trying to play?" Seltzer finally asked, but there was some apprehension in his voice that didn't escape Luke and that certainly didn't escape Gant.

"You see, I did count how many bullets you so rudely sent my way, and I know what kind of guns bailiffs have. Now, unless you somehow stumbled upon some spare bullets, which I doubt, you've only got one left. One shot, doc. You can shoot the boy, but that would leave you defenceless. And believe me, if Luksey doesn't get out from that silos alive, neither will you."

Luke swallowed, trying his hardest not to start shaking. He knew that detective Gant would get him back home safe and sound, he knew he could do that – he had to _believe_ he could do that – but the careless tone he had just used to mention the possibility he wouldn't make it out of that place alive still sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

His captor, on the other hand, seemed to have some trouble catching his breath. "You… you can't do that!" he almost shrieked "you're an officer! You-"

"Yes, that's exactly it, my boy. An officer killing a convicted murderer who tried to escape with a hostage and _then_ killed the hostage? Big deal. I would have no trouble having everyone and their grandma think I really shot you in self-defence, or in an extreme attempt to save the kid. I could even get a raise out of it – your life it worth nothing now, doc. From how I see it, there is only one way out of this for you."

Luke could now see that the hand holding the gun was trembling. "And that would be?" Dr. Seltzer asked. He was trying to hard to keep his voice firm, but he was failing.

"Let me speak with the kid first."

The man tensed, but after a few moments the gag covering Luke's mouth was roughly yanked down. The boy gasped and licked his dry lips.

"Hey, Luksey! Everything okay?"

"Y… yes!" Luke uttered, trying to keep his voice firm "I'm okay!"

"Jolly good! Hang in there, okay?" Gant said before calling out for Seltzer "hey, doc!"

"What?" was the somewhat shaky reply.

"Here's the deal – let the kid go. I'll take him and leave. I'll say you left him behind in the pickup. He's a smart kid, he'll play along."

Dr. Seltzer gave a harsh laugh. "Do you think I'm an idiot? Why should I believe that you'll just leave me be?"

"Because the priority here is getting back Luksey. Be reasonable, doc – you're at a dead end. All other units know where you are, and they'll be here in minutes. SWAT included. If we just keep chatting like this, we'll still be here by the time they arrive. There will be snipers, and with the door open hiding behind a child won't help you – they can make your head go boom without splitting one hair from the boy's head. You'll have more holes that a slice of Swiss cheese by the time they're done with you."

Luke could feel his captor's grip on his shirt tightening, then loosening, then tightening again. He stayed perfectly still, his heart beating somewhere in his throat, cold sweat covering his face. "And how do I know you won't come in and shoot me the moment he's out of here?" the man finally demanded to know.

"I'm flattered to know you think so highly of my skills, but I'm no sniper, you know. I'd have to step in your sight to try hitting you, and I don't even know where you're standing, or if you're moving around, while you know where I'd be coming from. You still have one bullet. It's riskier for me than it would be for you, don't you think?"

A long silence followed. Luke held his breath.

"You still there, doc?" Gant's voice came again "don't tell me you've gone swimming without letting me know. Would have loved to join."

"Shut up!" Dr. Seltzer snapped, then he drew in a deep breath "how can I know you'll just leave? You could as well keep me trapped in here like a damn rat until the police arrive!"

Gant clicked his tongue. "I'm afraid you only have my word on this one, doc. Not that you have much of a choice, do you? You already got yourself in a nice trap."

Another silence.

"Hey, we don't have all day," Gant pressed on "don't know about you, but I'd really like dropping by the pool before evening. Besides, half the police in LA will be here in minutes. Have I mentioned that the snipers can-"

"Fine, _fine_!" the man finally snapped "I let the kid go and you _leave_. If you show your face in here, I'll use the last bullet to make sure you won't see any pool ever again!"

Gant actually laughed. "Glad to see you finally saw reason, my friend. Don't worry, you won't use any more bullets today. Come here, Luksey! Your mother's worried sick, you know."

Luke felt Dr. Seltzer's grip on the collar of his shirt tightening for a moment, then the man let him go and gave him a rough shove. With both arms pinned to his body with tape Luke almost stumbled, but he managed not to fall and ran as quickly as he could to the door – so quickly that Gant, who was standing right next to the entrance, had to actually grab him before he went past him. "Well, glad to see you're okay, Luksey," he laughed.

"I'm fine, detective Gant, sir!" Luke exclaimed, relief written all over his face.

"Wonderful, wonderful," Gant laughed and reached to ruffle his hair with one hand, the other still holding his gun "what is this? Tape? Oh, my, now that's bothersome. I'll get it off you in a minute, alright? I've just got something to get done before we get to that."

Luke blinked. "Something to get done?"

"Hey, you!" Dr. Seltzer's yell came from inside the silos "you have the boy – now get the hell away from here!"

Gant chuckled. "Yes, just a matter to settle. You wait here, okay? Stay away from the door."

The boy's eyes widened. "Sir…?"

"Away from the door," Gant just repeated before taking a couple of steps to the doorway "hey, doc, remember when I told you that you won't use any more bullets today?"

"I just might if you dare to show your face!" Dr. Seltzer snapped.

"Oh, really?" Gant actually laughed before stepping right in the doorway, arms wide open "well, here's your target, doc. Want to try your aim?" he asked, and Luke stared at him with wide eyes – what was he _doing_?

Dr. Seltzer seemed to be wondering the same thing. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he almost shrieked "if you don't leave now, I'll-"

"You know, I'm afraid I made a little mistake counting the shots," Gant was saying, sounding incredibly calm for someone who had a gun pointed at him "you see, I just might have been wrong. Maybe by one. So maybe you have two shots left," he smirked "or maybe you have none."

The meaning of his words had just enough time to sink in Luke's mind, and he barely had enough time to realize how easily Gant had just tricked him – only an instant later a cry of rage came from inside the silos, followed by a loud click: Dr. Seltzer had tried to shoot, and failed to do so. He really had no more bullets.

On the other hand Gant did, and he had apparently decided that he didn't feel like wrestling the other man into submission before handcuffing him, for he lifted his gun almost lazily and shot twice, causing Luke to wince. Dr. Seltzer screamed again, this time in agony, but Gant seemed unfazed by his cries: he simply put the gun back in place, pulled out the handcuffs and walked inside, whistling a little.

Luke didn't hesitate one moment to rush to the doorway to finally look inside. Dr. Seltzer was on the ground, both his legs bleeding, and he kept squirming and crying out in pain. Gant, however, seemed deaf to his cries: he pushed him to lie on his stomach with a foot and proceeded to handcuff him while absentmindedly explaining him his rights. Not that Dr. Seltzer was listening, but Luke figured out detective Gant was doing that out of habit.

"My, my, look what mess you did. All because you refused to give up and let the boy go. Good for you I managed not to hit the kid," Gant said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly, then he turned to Luke and winked at him, and the boy knew what he was going to have to testify upon being asked – Dr. Seltzer had refused to let him go, held him at gunpoint, and Gant had to shoot to stop him. Simple enough. No one would doubt things really went that way. It wasn't like that man didn't deserve it.

"Now, Luksey, nothing left to see here," Gant added before walking up to Luke. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder to gently push him away from the doorway. "Doc's all packed up and ready for jail. Now let's look for something to get this tape off you, eh? It's got to be uncomfortable. Hope you didn't get too scared in there. But I couldn't let you know that gun wouldn't shoot again right in front of our good doctor, could I?"

"I wasn't scared!" Luke immediately replied "I… I knew that he couldn't shoot anymore!" he lied.

"Did you?" Gant said with a chuckle, reaching to take a knife from the trunk of police car before using it to start cutting the tape off Luke "oh, right, sure you did. You're a smart kid. Bet you're going to make a fine detective when you grow up. But what about earlier? Weren't you scared?" he asked, yanking the last of the tape off the boy as he spoke.

Luke eagerly shook his head. "Not at all! I knew you'd find us," he said, and after all it was only half a lie "I bet you found the clues I left you!"

Gant laughed. "I sure did," he said, reaching to take something from his pocket – three cards "I figured out there had to be a reason why these particular cards were chosen to write the bits of info," he smirked, handing them back to Luke "the King of Spades, the King of Hearts and, of course, the Ace of Diamonds. You knew I'd remember our chat and notice it, eh? Clever of you, Luksey. Very clever. You're the real ace here."

Luke was positively beaming at the praise. "And I thought it up all by myself!" he boasted before pausing "but you did well at guessing, too! And then you outsmarted him, though of course I _knew_ it had to be a trap, and he just fell-" he trailed off as he noticed something odd with the detective's coat, a darker spot that wasn't there before, as though something dark had seeped through the clothing, something like… like…

_Blood_.

"Detective Gant, sir…!" Luke gasped, his eyes wide as saucers as he kept his gaze fixed on what he had just recognized as a bloodstain on Gant's right side. So one of the bullets Dr. Seltzer had fired before he sought refuge in the silos had hit him…!

Gant followed his gaze, and for a moment before he chuckled he looked almost surprised, as though he had forgotten it was even there. "Oh, that. It's just a scratch, Luksey. Barely even got me. It just needs bandages, but since I've had enough of doctors for today I'll just have someone in the precinct patching it up a bit. The one that hit the windshield was more dangerous really, but I got this to stop it," he chuckled and reached in his breast pocket to take something he handed to Luke "want to keep it as a souvenir?"

Luke took the object and found himself staring with his mouth hanging open at the badge in his hand – there was a bullet lodged in it. "This would have gotten your heart if your badge weren't there!" the boy exclaimed.

Gant laughed as though the idea was incredibly funny. "Yes, that's pretty much it. I'm a lucky devil, eh? Guess that's something you'd like to show around at your friend. Just to prove them you've been involved into this special brand grownup business."

Luke couldn't hold back a smile at the thought of the impressed faces his schoolmates would make upon seeing that. They were going to have to believe him, and _then_ they would admire him! Still… "But, sir, isn't this supposed to be evidence?"

Gant dismissively waved his hand. "No, not quite. Evidence is supposed to _prove_ something, don't you think?"

The boy thought about it for just a moment. "Well, yes."

"Exactly. And this doesn't prove anything worthwhile, so it would be wasted in some old evidence drawer."

"It proves you were shot," Luke pointed out, causing the man to laugh.

"Good thinking, Luksey," Gant said approvingly "but I already have the proof he shot me, remember? Right here on my skin, and the bullet is in the car."

"But how will you explain the fact it's missing?"

"Oh, I'll just say I lost it. They might be angry, but since right now I get to be the hero of they day they'll just suck it up and give me a new one," Gant grinned a little "so keep it. Consider that badge a prize for the clues you left us. As a future colleague you deserve at least that, don't you think, Detective Atmey?"

Luke's chest swelled at the praise. "Yes sir, thank you, sir!" he exclaimed before looking down at the badge in his hands with a grin. He was sure everyone at school would be so impressed that they'd never again make fun of him. Luke was about to voice his thoughts, but he was cut off by a sudden, familiar sound – the wailing of sirens. The boy turned just in time to see a few police car and an ambulance breaking in the clearing. "So you did call for reinforcements!"

Gant nodded. "Yes, but I'm afraid you won't see snipers. I called them right before coming after you at the silos, and I told them that I had already arrested our good doctor. That, and that they should send an ambulance for him along with the police."

Luke blinked and looked up at him. "Wait, so you knew exactly how things would turn out?" he asked in disbelief.

"More or less. I had planned for them to go like this, but you can never know what could go wrong. Sometimes what a detective needs along with a plan is some confidence. I had enough trust in my skills to know I could fix things exactly the way I wanted," Gant said before turning to one of the officers approaching "Dr. Seltzer is in the silos. The owner of the pickup is still out cold, but I think he'll be just fine. Can I take one of your cars? The kid is fine, so I think it's for the best if I brought him back to his mother right away. I trust she already knows her son is fine."

"Yes, sir, we already contacted her," one of the officers say "and of course you can use any one. Just one thing – your presence and the boy's will be required in court again for the trial against Dr. Al K. Seltzer regarding the charges of kidnapping, assault and theft."

"You can add attempted murder to the list. Doc tried to shoot me," Gant said before chuckling "one would wonder what's the point of a such trial since the guy was already convicted for murder. Let me guess – good old Manny will prosecute, isn't that right?"

"That's right, sir," was the reply "Prosecutor von Karma was rather… insistent in demanding to be given this case to handle."

Gant looked amused, but not at all surprised. "Trust good old Fredo to make sure the guy doesn't have any way out," he chuckled "when will the trial be held? I think our good doctor will be hardly fit to attend to any very soon."

"I guess trial will take place as soon as the defendant has healed enough to attend. We'll have to wait a little before knowing exactly how long it will take."

"I see. Well, I just hope our good doctor will be handcuffed in court this time around. We don't want him to go and pull any stunt like this one, do we?"

"Of course not, sir. He will be handcuffed from the moment he walks in to the moment he leaves."

Gant nodded approvingly. "Yes, that would be wonderful. I don't look forward to missing another day at the pool," he commented before turning to Luke "well, heard that, colleague? Looks like you'll be getting the spotlight again pretty soon. Not that it's needed, really. Have I mentioned the minute-for-minute news of your kidnapping have been broadcasted all along?"

Luke's expression brightened again at the thought. "Really?"

"Hey, would I tell you a lie?" Gant said with a shrug "really, everyone and their cat knows your name by now. Imagine their surprise when they find out how you managed to outsmart his kidnapper and aid the police with a clever trick."

Luke stared at him for a few moments, barely able to believe it. "Really? And you'll tell them about it?"

"Well, why don't you tell them yourself? I bet that the moment I get you back to your mom you'll be surrounded by more reporters than you can imagine, ready to tear each other apart to interview you. Remember to smile for the camera and-"

Luke was in the car before Gant was even done speaking.

* * *

><p>It turned out that the bullets Gant got in Dr. Seltzer's legs – one each, just to be sure the guy wouldn't get up and walk away – had done quite some damage, especially the one that got his right knee; so little over a month passed before the man was deemed capable of attending to his trial, so that the trial could finally start. By then Luke's arm had healed, and even though it felt still a little stiff – he had only gotten rid of the cast a few days earlier after all – Luke was pretty glad about it: he was sure he would make an even better impression than the first time on the witness stand without that stupid cast.<p>

Normally Luke would have been annoyed a delay of his great moment, but that time he hadn't complained much: even after the reporters were done asking him to repeat his experience over and over, Luke's need for attention was fully satisfied by the fact he had pretty much turned into the most popular kid at school. In that month he found himself telling the whole story at least a dozen times a day, and he never grew tired of it.

And of course, when the day of the trial came he was more than ready to repeat it all once more. There were obviously some little changes he had made to his tale even before von Karma and Gant told him to: Dr. Seltzer had actually never let go of him, and he had kept threatening him with the gun until the very last moment. Gant had only shot in his legs so that he would let go of Luke, and only after Dr. Seltzer had shot _him_ while inside the silos – and _not_ while he was inside the police car.

"The defence attempts at meddling with useless information such as the officers' failure at finding the bullet that hit detective Gant inside the silos are nothing but attempts had throwing dust in your Honour's eyes," von Karma had said when Dr. Seltzer's attorney had tried to claim things hadn't gone exactly as Luke had described "the door was open, just as testified, and Gant was standing in front of it – the bullet might be anywhere in the countryside. What truly matters is that this man kidnapped a child, something everyone in this court today has seen him doing, and kept him at gunpoint throughout his escape. Moreover, in his attempt to escape justice he shot an officer; it was only because of his ineptitude with firearms that detective Gant is in this courtroom to testify today. The only verdict Dr. Seltzer deserves for the charges he's facing today is guilty – something I trust won't be forgotten when it will be the moment to decide what penalty he'll face," the prosecutor had finished.

That last sentence sure didn't surprise Luke: Gant had mentioned that the only usefulness von Karma saw in that trial was making sure no other sentence than death penalty would be inflicted upon the defendant in regards to his guilt in the murder of Dr. Stan Hewitt. The thought hadn't bothered Luke at all then; but now, as he glanced from the witness stand to the defendant's seat, he couldn't help but feel a little uneasy: Dr. Seltzer was deathly pale, and even though he was handcuffed for security reasons it was clear as day that he wasn't going to do anything, not that time. He looked everything like a lamb waiting for the fatal blow on the neck he knew was coming. When he briefly met Luke's eyes, no emotion at all but helplessness showed.

"The court finds the defendant, Al K. Seltzer, guilty on all charges," the judge's voice reached him as if from far away, causing him to wince and turn his glance away from the defendant "the accused will surrender to the court immediately to be held pending trial to a higher court within a month from today's date. That is all. The court is adjourned."

Even though this time Luke decided to wait until Dr. Seltzer was lead out of the courtroom to leave the witness stand – you can never know, he thought – he did glance at him one last time, but the man was staring and the ground and simply let himself being brought away without glancing back at him for one instant. From that moment on, it was clear to everyone he was a dead man walking.

Still over twenty-five years away from the day _he_ would be the one to stand to trial, Luke Atmey wondered briefly what it had to feel like being cornered beyond hope, knowing that you lost and that your fate is sealed. He couldn't say he felt sorry for Dr. Seltzer, but he would never be able until much later to define the sense of uneasiness that pervaded him that day.

"Well, now _that_ was a first class performance, Luksey," Gant's voice, together with a powerful pat on his shoulder, snapped Luke from his thoughts "but now you can get down the witness stand, you know. Don't worry, I'm sure that when you're a detective you'll get to be on it at least once a week. Just a little patience. Now take advantage of your spare time to swim a little, okay? You'll come to miss free time, believe me."

Luke chuckled a little and got down the chair he had to climb onto to be visible while on the witness stand – his mother immediately grabbed his hand, as if to make sure no one would snatch him away _again_, but Luke didn't mind too much. "I did well, uh?" he asked.

His mother chuckled. "Yes, you did well," she said, looking a lot less nervous now that it was all over.

Gant nodded. "Even better than last time," he said almost solemnly "isn't that right, Freddie?"

"I suppose it was alright," von Karma conceded somewhat absentmindedly, a satisfied smirk still curling his lips – he had to be satisfied of the trial's outcome, Luke thought "remember that I expect you and Delacroix to be in my office in half a hour. We have another trial tomorrow, and your testimony must be flawless."

"Will do," Gant called after him as the prosecutor left without another word or look at Luke and his mother, then he sighed "my, what a slave driver. Hope you'll– hey, Udgey, see you later!" Gant turned to wave at the judge. "Hope you'll never have to work with a stick in the mud like him when you grow up. And tomorrow's trial is going to be boring stuff. Too bad we don't get to pick our cases. Oh well, c'est la vie."

"You don't get to choose?" Luke asked with a small frown as they made their way out of the courtroom.

"Oh, no. When in the force, you've got to work on whatever they tell you to investigate. Don't get me wrong, Luksey, we get a lot of interesting cases. But there are the boring ones to deal with from time to time. Can't say I care much about those but hey, it comes with the job. Not that it isn't annoying when you see the others working on something actually interesting while you're dealing with dull stuff."

"Oh," Luke said, not really looking happy about it "but I only want to work on the _important_ ones!"

Gant laughed. "Well, wouldn't we all want that?" he said "but I'm afraid that until you make it to an important role, you don't really get to be picky. Unless, of course, you work on your own."

"On my own?"

"Well, yes. As a private detective, you know."

Luke's eyes widened. "Like Sherlock Holmes?" he asked, finding himself growing fond on the idea already.

Gant seemed amused by the thought. "Yes, like Sherlock Holmes. That way you get to pick your cases among the ones you're offered. Not to mention that, if you choose your clients well, you can get one heck of a pay check for each case."

Well, as far as Luke was concerned, the pay check would a nice plus – but the real catch was getting to work on important cases, the kind of cases that make your name end up on the newspapers and people praise you for your deductive skills. Also, if he worked alone he wouldn't have to share the glory with anyone; he would do everything by himself. How difficult could it be anyway? He was smart, and he had a magnifying glasses already, and… and he was going to also ask his mom to get him a chemistry set, and then he would be ready to start practicing with looking for clues and evidence. Once you have that and you can make the right deductions, he reasoned, solving a case would be a piece of cake.

"Hey, Luksey, are you okay?" Gant's voice snapped him from his thoughts, and Luke glanced up to realize they were now out of the courthouse.

"I think he's off to La La Land," his mother commented with a chuckle.

"I was just thinking," Luke said somewhat defensively before turning to Gant "I'm think I'm going to be a private detective then, you know. Like Sherlock Holmes. Just better."

"Better than Sherlock Holmes, eh?" Gant gave a low whistle. "That's going to take work, you know, Luksey. You'll have to make a name for yourself before you get hired to take care of something really important."

"So? I have everything that it takes!" Luke said almost challengingly. He was special, and he was going to prove it. Making a name for himself was going to be easy. And it was one of his goals anyway, so working on that wasn't going to feel like a heavy task.

"Oh, sure you do. You're a clever kid. Bet you're going to be an ace in the field."

Luke puffed out his chest. "Exactly! I'm going to be the best," he declared, and he paused for a moment before adding, "and when I'm famous and someone will write my biography, I'll sign a copy for you."

Both Gant and Luke's mother laughed, and Luke blinked in confusion. "What? I'm serious!" he protested.

"Sure you are, Luksey," Gant said, reaching to ruffle his hair a bit "I'll be looking forward to ready of you in the newspapers, then. Maybe we'll work together again, who knows?" he smirked a bit "and remember you owe me that signed copy."

Luke nodded eagerly. "Sure!"

"Thank you, detective Gant. For everything," Luke's mother said, letting go of her son's hand to hold hers out to Gant, who reached to take it with what looked a lot like a curtly bow.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Atmey. Luksey was fun to look after," he said with a laugh "it was a pleasure to meet you. See you around Luksey," he gave Luke one last nod before turning to walk off to the parking lot, where his car probably was.

Luke stared at his retreating back for a few moments, then he frowned as though something had just occurred to him. He reached to take something he had always had with him for the past month and that he was going to always carry around – the Ace of Diamonds card. He stared down at it before nodding a little to himself and calling out after Gant. "Detective Gant!"

Gant glanced at him from over his shoulders. "Yes?"

"You'll be hearing of the Ace Detective someday, and it will be me! Don't you forget!"

Another chuckle escaped Gant. "I won't. See you around then, Ace Detective," he said with a nod before turning again, heading for von Karma's office.

* * *

><p><em>"The court finds the defendant, Manfred von Karma, guilty on the charge of first-degree murder…"<em>

* * *

><p><em>"The court finds the defendant, Damon Gant, guilty on the charge of first-degree murder. The accused will surrender…"<em>

* * *

><p><em>"The court finds the defendant, Luke Atmey, guilty on the charge of first-degree murder. The accused will surrender to the court immediately to be held pending trial to a higher court within a month from today's date. That is all. The court is adjourned."<em>


End file.
